


Quietly Observant

by OptimisticLady



Series: time is not alone with you [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Harry Potter, Bisexual Remus Lupin, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sirius Black, Gen, Lesbian Ginny Weasley, Lesbian Luna Lovegood, M/M, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Remus Lupin Lives, Second War with Voldemort, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Teenage Drama, in some regards, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 68
Words: 195,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21720100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OptimisticLady/pseuds/OptimisticLady
Summary: Violet Merryworth likes to be alone. Violet Merryworth likes to blend into the crowd. Violet Merryworth also dislikes her uncle. So when she gets wrapped up with the Golden Trio by her third year of Hogwarts, life gets a little more complicated. Only, she finds herself opening up and becoming braver than she could have ever imagined. Long fic, eventual Harry/OC. Eventual Wolfstar. Fix-it. *Now in Order of the Phoenix*
Relationships: Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: time is not alone with you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753495
Comments: 162
Kudos: 274





	1. First Year

The concept of making friends was surprisingly not a scary one, to eleven year old Violet Lucinda Merryworth. As a girl who had always been quiet and liked to keep to herself throughout her childhood, easily entertained on her own, and not exactly the most talkative. She never considered herself lonely, but rather liked to be alone.

Of course, what with being sent off to Hogwarts, her parents worried about her making friends, but Violet appeared to be open to the concept; if not to get them to stop worrying. Either way, when they were started on platform nine and three quarters about fifteen minutes before the Hogwarts Express left, Violet stared up at her parents with big hazel eyes and essentially allowed them to rattle on for a few minutes.

“Please do try and talk to the other kids, Violet, you’ll feel so much better for it!” her mother, Geniveve said.

“We don’t want you being lonely, love,” said her father, Thomas, as he crouched down a little to her level and tucked a piece of her long black hair behind her ear. “Owl us if you are.”

Violet nodded, adjusting her satchel so it sat more comfortably on her shoulder and clutching the book she was holding a little bit tighter.

“And you’ll be coming home for Christmas, so if you feel like writing to us weekly you can tell us everything,” Geniveve said, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Violet’s head and wrapping an arm around her. Thomas stood back up and did the same.

“We’re so proud of you, love, don’t forget that.”

Violet nodded again, a small smile coming to her face.

“And… if you don’t want to talk to us, send an owl to your uncle,” her mother said carefully.

“He’s not actually my uncle...” Violet muttered. Her parents sighed.

“Of course that’s the first thing you say to us all morning…” Geniveve said, trying her best to not get exasperated. “Look, sweetie, that’s just what you have to call him. I know you’re not really a fan but...”

“I know,” Violet then said. “I’m sorry, mum.”

Geniveve’s face softened. “Don’t apologise. You’re stubborn just like your dad.”

“Hey!” Thomas then frowned at his wife, who let out a light laugh.

“Go get on the train. We’ll see you at Christmas. We love you.”

“Love you too, mum, dad.”

Violet allowed herself to be pulled into one last tight hug by her parents before happily wandering away to hop onto the train and find an empty compartment to sit in - which proved more difficult than expected.

Every single one was pretty full - either with nervous first years or chattering older students who had already found their friends from a long time before. Violet tried not to make eye contact with anyone inside the compartments because she didn’t particularly want to have to talk to anyone on the long journey. Nor did she want to be asked endless questions by the older years.

Once the train set off moving, she was about to lose hope when she came across a compartment that only had one occupant inside: a boy with jet black hair, bright green eyes, glasses, and-

Her eyes widened when she saw the scar on his forehead. Violet dipped out of his potential viewing line for a second just to collect herself. _No way was Harry Potter on the train and she was about to walk in and sit with him?!_ Although…

No harm done, really.

She pulled herself back in front of the doorway and cleared her throat. He looked up at her.

“Um… please could I sit here?” she asked him quietly. “I won’t… um…” Violet held up her book to indicate her plan for the journey.

“Sure,” he smiled at her. Violet muttered a thanks and sat down in the corner by the door, promptly opening her book and getting her nose stuck right into it. There was an awkward silence in the compartment for a moment, until he spoke up again.

“I’m Harry, by the way. Harry Potter. What’s your name?” he asked.

“Violet Merryworth,” she said quietly, barely taking her eyes off her book. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You too…”

Clearly he had absolutely no idea what to say next, and so said nothing. Which is exactly what she wanted to happen. Although the moment the redheaded boy walked in, Violet regretted her decision to sit in this compartment. Either way, she supposed the two of them chatting was easy enough to tune out - except of course when the other boy tried to speak to her.

She had to admire Harry’s sense - he stopped the redhead from saying anything to her. They talked in hushed tones until a lady with a multitude of treats on a trolley came along. The boys took nearly the entire cart’s worth of it. Violet wasn’t interested.

Then something happened that made her _actually_ want to make a friend. A bushy-haired girl, already dressed in her Hogwarts robes, came in and fixed Harry’s glasses. She seemed very no-nonsense, very clever at that too - so the minute the girl left, Violet shut her book, grabbed her things and practically ran after her.

“Hi! Sorry, I’m - I’m Violet. Violet Merryworth,” she then said when the other girl turned around.

“Hermione Granger,” she replied. “You probably heard that in there, didn’t you?”

Violet shrugged. “Wasn’t listening, really. Do you mind if I sit with you for the rest of the way?”

Hermione seemed taken aback by the offer, but smiled and nodded. “Of course. Are you going to get changed?”

“Might as well.”

They set off further down the train and into an entirely empty compartment. They were the only two in there, besides a stack of books next to Hermione’s open bag.

“Trying to get ahead?” Violet asked as she settled down on the seat opposite Hermione, who’s cheeks went a little pink.

“I’m from a Muggle family,” she said. “Need to know as much as I can! What about you?”

“Half and half,” Violet said. “My dad’s a Muggleborn, but he met my mum at Hogwarts. I know enough to not struggle.”

“Oh you must know more than enough!” Hermione insisted. “You probably know things I don’t! You’ll have to tell me about growing up actually being part of a magical family!”

Violet winced at that. “Um…”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No! No, I’m… not really an open book. I don’t like talking much.”

Somehow, Hermione seemed to understand. “Well, we can just sit quietly and read the rest of the way. But you’ll tell me about your family one day, right?”

Violet nodded, relieved. “Sure.”

They both cracked open their books again and happily sat in silence for the rest of the journey. It was a nice, companionable silence, and it made Violet think she was going to like this Hermione girl a lot over the course of the next seven years at school. She even began to wonder if they would sit and do homework together…

Soon enough the sun set and Violet had to change into her robes. She was filled with apprehension about the upcoming Sorting Ceremony, so much so that when all the first years journeyed the rest of the way to Hogwarts on little boats, she wasn’t in awe of the castle as much as everyone else was.

When it finally came to it and she was called up in front of the entire school to have the floppy hat placed upon her head, Violet expected it to place her in Ravenclaw straightaway just like her parents. Instead, she ended up having a rather strange conversation and remained on the stool in front of all the students for a little longer than she wanted.

 _“Merryworth? As in Thomas Merryworth?”_ The Sorting Hat asked her.

“Yes,” she squeaked out.

_“And your mother - Geniveve Oaks - yes, I remember them. Ravenclaws, as are you expecting to be?”_

“Yes.”

_“But you have a brave heart, Violet Merryworth, a quiet strength that you don’t know of yet.”_

She frowned. What was it talking about?

_“How badly do you want to step outside the box? How badly do you want to prove to them that you’re more than just a quiet girl?”_

“A lot. I want to prove I _can_ talk.”

 _“Then perhaps…”_ The Sorting Hat stopped for a moment, before announcing: “GRYFFINDOR!”

The Hat was taken off her head and she was almost taken aback by the thunderous applause that came from the Gryffindor table. At least Hermione was there. She hurried over to the table and sat down next to the girl, her mind wondering how on earth her parents were going to take this news.

Regardless, everyone seemed friendly enough. They were shortly joined by Harry and his redheaded friend Ron, and the feast passed by in an excitable blur. Violet spoke to Hermione as much as she could, and others where she could - it was all a little overwhelming, having to be around so many people at one time.

If anything, Violet was looking forward to going to bed at this point. The whole trying to make friends malarky was… definitely more difficult than she originally anticipated. As open minded as she had been about it before, Violet was now considering that a year ahead by herself might be more beneficial to her as a whole.

The first week of lessons alongside Hermione only solidified that.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about the other girl constantly answering every single that was posed to the class, wanted or unwanted. To Violet, it was like she was trying to show off and prove herself that she _did_ fit in. Even so, she still joined Hermione in the library or Gryffindor Common Room to do work. They often bounced ideas off each other about essays, and both of them were at the top of all their classes in no time at all - although Violet was far more quiet about the ordeal.

Sometimes, if she was on her own, Harry might sit with her. Violet thought it odd whenever it happened, but she always cleared some space for him to work and watched him out of the corner of her eye. It was curious to see him speed through some pieces of homework and then be completely stumped on others; during those times she would casually tell him an answer or a missing essay point.

It scared him to know that she was watching him work while she did her own.

Eventually they seemed to come to a mutual agreement, and more often than not across the year it wouldn’t be uncommon to see both Harry and Violet sitting next to each other doing homework and muttering answers for things that the other was stuck on. Despite being the top of every class, Violet had to admit that Harry was incredible at Defence Against the Dark Arts, and more often than not he would know something she didn’t when it came to that area.

Of course, watching him and Ron get up to all sorts - and then Hermione getting involved in it too - made her respectfully keep her distance outside of schoolwork. As first year wore on, Violet could feel herself becoming painfully less and less talkative to anyone to the point where it shocked people if she did ever open her mouth - even the teachers.

Any house points that were lost on Harry and Ron’s behalf, she could at least help make up for it by being a good student. That was all she focused on, really. If being in Gryffindor hadn’t disappointed her parents (they were in fact, pleasantly surprised and thought it would be good for their daughter), slowly shutting off from her housemates definitely did. They tried not to be too harsh on her in letters, but Violet could just _feel_ the disappointment from the other side of the country.

She was able to blend into the background of her house, her classes, and anywhere else within the school that she needed to. Violet felt better off that way. It was a simpler life, really. She was amicable with people when she needed to be so that she was at the very least _liked_ by her classmates and not seen as a strange, unsociable outcast. Well, it probably came across that way to people from other houses, but the Gryffindors understood. That was all that mattered in the long run of the seven years she was going to be there.

Then she got picked on.

Towards the end of the year - in those final few weeks after exams but just before the summer holidays came around - Violet decided to take a stroll into the grounds, only to find herself being heckled by a group of Slytherins as she stepped into the Clocktower Courtyard.

“Oh look boys, it’s the mute!” sneered Draco Malfoy. Violet sighed and carried on walking, doing her best to ignore him while his friends cackled. “You’re no fun, are you, Merryworth?”

Violet glanced over her shoulder as she made it to the bridge to see they were following her. She swiftly turned to look ahead, really trying her best to shut them out.

“Merryworth the Mute has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” he carried on.

 _Ignore, ignore, ignore…_ she told herself. _Just tune them out…_

“Why don’t you ever talk? Or do you not know how to?”

“Leave her alone, Malfoy!” came a different voice.

That stopped everyone in their tracks.

Violet turned around to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione also on their way out to the castle grounds. None of them were entirely happy to see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle trying to gang up on a singular person.

“Why do you care, Potter?” Malfoy spat back. The trio came to a halt in front of the Slytherins.

“Take a hint. Don’t talk to someone who doesn’t want to talk to you,” Ron said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“Nobody asked you, Weasley.”

Ron just rolled his eyes, and shoved past the group with his two friends.

“Join us for a bit, yeah?” Harry then asked Violet, who nodded vigorously.

The four of them hurried off through the bridge, leaving a rather bemused Malfoy who at least didn’t follow.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked the girl as they came out into the Stone Circle, before heading down the steps towards the Black Lake.

“I’m fine. Wasn’t expecting it, is all,” Violet replied. “I mean, it’s been a year and he decides to do this now?”

“Malfoy never was the brightest.”

“Why’d you step in?”

“You’re nice,” Harry said. “You just get on with it. And you helped me with my homework a lot.”

Violet smiled at him. “Thanks. I wouldn’t say I’m nice though. Just…”

“Quiet?” offered Ron.

“Yeah.”

“Well, you’ve been alright with us. Even if you do glare when we lose house points…”

They came to a halt and sat down on the grass in a spot that had a good enough view of the lake. It was a bright, sunny day, and it wasn’t to be wasted. Violet supposed the company was nice for a day like this, and she became thankful for how they stepped in with Malfoy.

“Um… you didn’t _have_ to get involved with the Malfoy thing,” she then said. “It didn’t really bug me, but thank you.”

“It’s alright,” Harry said. “Anytime.”

Violet gave a curt nod and fell back into silence, merely watching as the three friends who came to her aid happily chatted about the year that had gone by, the upcoming summer, and a few other things regarding Professor Snape that she probably shouldn’t be privy to. She wondered if they were saying this around her because of the fact they knew she wouldn’t say anything, or because they knew she would tune out - the latter seemed more obvious, because while they were talking she had pulled a book out of her bag and promptly sat reading it.

After a couple of hours, they parted ways again, not really seeing each other much until a couple of weeks later where they shared a train compartment on the way back home. Violet couldn’t help but notice how battered the trio looked, but she didn’t question it.

She didn’t really want to know, in all honesty.


	2. Second Year

Violet breezed through her holiday homework. Of course, she was given a little bit of help from her parents, but for the most part she was able to get through it by herself. For the most part, she remained introverted and not particularly talkative, in her room, and would occasionally head outside on the hotter days of the year.

Every now and then across the summer, her ‘uncle’ would visit and she would retreat into her room, not to be seen again until he left. He’d leave her a book every time though, and every single time she would eagerly read it and keep it. That was an unspoken rule at the very least, although her parents did try to get to her to at least say thank you to him.

She left a note taped to her bedroom door instead. It was returned in kind, appreciative of the ‘thank you’ and urging her to come out of her room next summer when he stopped by. Or even sooner in the winter, for when she returned for the Christmas holidays.

An odd dynamic struck up between the two of them that summer, one that shocked Violet’s parents to no end. Perhaps it was a step in the right direction, mostly because at dinner time the young girl would ask when he would be stopping by with another book again. As much as it befuddled Thomas and Genevive, it did please them to no end that Violet appeared to be warming to her ‘uncle’ as they so hoped. Even if it had taken most of the girl’s life so far…

When the time came to go back to Hogwarts, Genevive was absolutely besotted by the fact that her daughter was going to be taught by Gilderoy Lockhart - a fact that Violet wasn’t particularly fussed by, even though they managed to catch a glimpse of him in Diagon Alley when they were buying her books for second year.

What surprised Violet the most was how Hermione appeared to be absolutely in love with the man as well when they sat together on the Hogwarts Express. It confused her to no end.

“He’s not… I don’t get it,” Violet remarked, pulling a face.

“But he’s done such fantastic things! Oh - being taught by him is going to be  _ brilliant _ ,” Hermione said, positively beaming.

“Right. Well. I guess we’ll find out, right?” she shrugged in response. “Anyway, where are Harry and Ron? Thought they would have come to find you by now?”

“I don’t know… I didn’t see them on the platform.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m sure they’ll turn up.”

And they did.

In the Common Room.

Several hours after the fact.

Violet’s ears pricked up at the conversation they were having with Hermione - something about a flying car…

The moment Harry caught onto the fact she was listening, he hushed his voice even lower if that were even possible. She pretended to go back to her book, all the while still earwigging. It served her some form of entertainment; she would rather listen to their antics than participate in them.

She and Harry fell back into their unspoken mutual agreement of muttering homework answers to each other, and eventually actually talking to each other: it turned out they had a mutual dislike of Lockhart. Especially after that initial lesson with the Pixies…

Then all the weird stuff started happening at Hogwarts. The attacks. Violet’s parents started sending her rather worried letters after she told them what was going on, but she reassured them that everything was fine and she was as safe as she could be. Admittedly she was uncertain of being around Harry because of the whole talking to snakes thing; she kept her distance for a short time, while she decided whether or not being near him was a good idea.

Until one day, she saw him sit down on his own for a study session - she presumed Ron and Hermione were on their way - but anyone who had sat near him got up and moved. Harry seemed a little put out and annoyed by that, so Violet went and sat next to him.

He looked at her rather oddly when she did so.

“So I’m okay to sit with again?” There was a tone of bitterness in his voice that didn’t go unmissed by Violet. He’d caught onto her avoidance.

She looked at him sheepishly. “I’m sorry… I - my parents got worried the moment I told them about what was happening here… other than that: no excuse.”

Harry blinked a couple of times at her, but before he could say anything, Ron and Hermione finally showed up and sat opposite the pair. The four sat in silence for some time Violet started muttering answers to Harry, and he back at her; that interaction alone was something the other two hadn’t witnessed before, and they were rather intrigued and amused by it. Also confused. They said nothing of it, though. There was no need.

The year carried on as normally as it possibly could, until a fateful day in the library.

Violet was off returning some books to the library on the morning of the final Quidditch match of the year, when she came across something horrifying.

Hermione.

On the floor.

Petrified.

She was holding a mirror.

Violet gulped, not sure how to react - if she could even react. Almost as if acting on instinct, an uncharacteristic scream ejected itself came from her mouth, and she quickly clapped a hand over it to shut herself up with tears in her eyes. Luckily for her, her scream alerted Professor Flitwick, who came to see what all the fuss was about.

He urged Violet to go and get Professor McGonagall; which she did, because she didn’t want to have to spend another second looking at the Petrified Hermione. The Head of House whipped up a cup of tea for Violet, sat with her until she calmed down, and rather unfortunately had to leave the poor girl shaking in her office while she dealt with the matter.

Quidditch was cancelled, and within the hour Violet was escorted back to Gryffindor Tower.

Then later that evening, something odd happened.

Violet was minding her own business in the Common Room, the last few people just heading off to bed, when Harry and Ron pulled up chairs at the table she was currently reading it; she’d been going through book after book all afternoon after the curfew was imposed. They waited patiently for her to finish a chapter before she finally gave them her attention.

“Hi…” she said with uncertainty.

“Hi,” Harry replied.

An awkward silence fell.

“Can I help you?” she then asked. Harry and Ron glanced at each other, with the latter trying to egg the former on to actually talk and explain.

“Right! Um… you’re clever, right Violet?”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Harry, where is this going?”

“Do you mind coming to Hagrid’s with us tonight?”

“Past curfew?”

“Yes.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m… not really one to break rules…”

Ron gave Harry a gentle nudge. “Told you so,” he murmured. That didn’t entirely sit well with Violet.

“But…” she then carried on quietly. “Will this help Hermione if I come along with you two?”

“You found her this morning, didn’t you?” Harry asked her carefully. Violet nodded. “I’m hoping this will. We need someone with a bit of common sense.”

She sighed, almost in disbelief of what she was about to say. “What’s the plan?”

Harry and Ron both tried to contain their excitement.

“We’re going to see Hagrid,” Harry told her. “Ask him a few questions.”

“And then?”

“I… don’t know.”

Violet eyed him curiously. “Get back to me when you know what you’re doing. Then I’ll jump in.”

“Um… sure. Don’t tell anyone where we’ve gone.”

She made a zipping motion over her mouth, and the boys left her be.

A week or so later, she was pulled aside by boys - literally.

Harry and Ron probably about had a head of height on her, and together as they passed Violet in the corridor, hooked an arm each under her own and lifted her, taking her back the way she had come and down an empty corridor. It went a lot more smoothly than they thought, although she  _ was _ flailing about a little...

“What the - what are you two - ?”

“We know something now,” Ron said after they set her back on her own two feet.

Harry scrambled about in his pockets and pulled out a piece of crumpled up paper.

“Hermione had this,” he said as he unfolded it, handing it to Violet. She took it and frowned as she read through the page. “The monster that’s been attacking people? It’s called a Basilisk-”

“I can see that, Harry, I can read…” she murmured, not taking her eyes off the paper.

Ron went to say something, but Harry nudged him so that he didn’t.

“And this bit here about pipes?” Violet asked, handing it back to Harry.

“That’s how it’s been getting around. We only just figured this out,” he then said. “ _ And _ , we found out that when the Chamber of Secrets was last opened, a girl died in a bathroom.”

“Moaning Myrtle?”

The boys were shocked she’d made that leap.

“How did you-?”

“She’s the only ghost that haunts a bathroom. Makes sense,” she said quietly. “What now?”

Before Harry could even say anything, McGonagall’s voice sounded over the tannoy system, telling all students to return to their dormitories, but summoning teachers to the second floor corridor.

The three students glanced at each other and made a beeline in that direction, listening in on what the teachers were discussing. Violet’s heart sank upon hearing that Ron’s younger sister had been taken - she’d seen the girl about, of course, but had never spoken to her as was the case with most students in her house.

Violet honestly didn’t know what she had gotten herself into at this point.

Soon enough they were on the third floor going after Gilderoy Lockhart, and as if she were part of the mob mentality, also had her wand trained on him. Three students against one completely hopeless, fraudulent teacher. Yeah, that sounded about right. If anything, she was glad she hadn’t been absolutely in love with Lockhart.

The teacher seemed shocked she was on the side of Harry and Ron.

“I thought you liked to keep your head down, Miss Merryworth,” Lockhart said. “Not get into trouble - and yet, here you are…”

Violet’s lips drew into a thin line, and she steadied her wand on him. “They came to me wanting help a few weeks ago. I’m not going to turn that down. Now. Bathroom, anybody?”

How she even managed to keep an air of confidence, she wasn’t entirely sure. On their way to the second floor, however, she kept behind Lockhart so that nobody else had to look at her. Violet had gone awfully pale as she thought about the amount of school rules she was breaking at that very moment.

As they stepped into the bathroom, Myrtle wasn’t exactly in the  _ best _ of moods, but when she saw Violet, her face lit up.

“You never mentioned you knew Violet, Harry!” Myrtle said as she floated over to the group.

Harry and Ron turned to look at Violet, who smiled at them sheepishly.

* * *

_ It hadn’t been the best day. Snape had decided to pick on her, proclaiming her the next best thing since Hermione had been Petrified. He wasn’t amused by her silence and keeping her head down; for some reason that made him take points off of Gryffindor. _

_ Wanting someone to talk to, Violet fled to the disused girl’s bathroom after lessons had finished for the day. _

_ “Myrtle?” she called out as she walked down the aisle of stalls. A few moments later, the resident ghost popped up out of one of the toilets. _

_ “Violet! How have you been?” the ghost asked her in that awfully high pitched voice of hers. “It’s been a wh-” Myrtle stopped short when she saw the look on Violet’s face. “Oh no. What happened dear?” She floated on over to her. _

_ The girl sniffed and held back a few tears. “It’s silly - well, it was Snape. Expecting me to be loud and proud now that - now that we - we don’t have Hermione…” She couldn’t stop her voice from trembling, and Myrtle almost wished she were alive so she could pull the younger girl into a hug. Or at least pat her on the shoulder. Whatever would have worked. _

_ “I would offer to haunt him, but… I think he’d haunt me first, if anything.” _

_ That made Violet chuckle. _

* * *

“Every girl knows Myrtle,” Violet then said, after thinking back on that. She then turned her attention to the ghost. “They’d like know how you died.”

Myrtle was happy to oblige and tell them.

That brief story led Harry to opening up the Chamber of Secrets using Parseltongue. Lockhart was pushed down the hole left in the wake of the opened sinks, and Harry gave Violet the option of staying up top or coming down with them. She deliberated over the choice, not really expecting him to give her one.

This wasn’t her area - trouble or chaos - so she decided to stay in the bathroom with Myrtle. Until of course she began to be racked with guilt about coming this far with the boys and not go with them to the end of the journey, so naturally she ended up sliding down the hole too.

Just at the right moment too, Lockhart was about to Obliviate Harry and Ron.

Except he’d nabbed Ron’s wand.

In the ensuing chaos of the falling rock, Violet ended up on the side of the blockage with Harry.

“You okay?” he asked her after helping her up. Violet nodded and dusted herself off as best as she could. “Why did you come down in the end?”

She shrugged. “I’m here to help,” was her answer.

Harry nodded. “Help Ron with the rocks. I’m going to carry on, okay?”

“Okay,” Violet squeaked out as he wandered further into the Chamber. She watched him approach a door before turning her attention to the large wall of rubble before her. There was a small hole in it, and through it she was able to see Ron. She waved awkwardly.

“Where’s Harry?” Ron asked her.

“He’s gone to find Ginny!” she called back. “Let’s get this rock shifted. What happened?”

“The Memory Charm backfired! Lockhart hasn’t got a clue who he is!”

“Perfect…” Violet muttered to herself, before whisking out her own wand and using Wingardium Leviosa to get started on clearing a pathway back out. It was rather long and gruelling work - she would occasionally use her hands as well - but soon enough there was a big enough gap where they could easily walk through to each other.

Violet wandered back through to Ron to find an unconscious Lockhart on the ground, and she raised a questioning eyebrow.

“He was being annoying,” was Ron’s explanation, which Violet accepted quite happily.

They weren’t sure how much time passed after that. Ron did try to make conversation with Violet but to no avail as she either gave one word answers or shrugs. She wasn’t in the mood to talk, as ever; a life or death situation was hardly going to change that.

Soon enough, they could hear footsteps coming through to them. Harry came walking back through holding onto a fairly shaken Ginny, who upon seeing her brother, went running up to him for a hug. Violet shot Harry a smile and a very curt nod as if to say ‘well done.’ She saw the sword he was holding but didn’t question it.

They were able to rouse Lockhart too, and a beautiful bird came flying through to them as well.

“Is that…?” Violet couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“A Phoenix. It’s Dumbledore’s - he’s called Fawkes. He can help us out of here - well, carry us, I think,” Harry answered.

“They can carry heavy loads,” Violet’s eyes brightened up at the notion of it as they followed it back through to the end of the tunnel they had dropped down.

Fawkes gently took hold of Lockhart’s robes and started to fly up, and Ron took hold of the Professor’s foot with one hand, while wrapping an arm around his sister. The bird flew higher and Harry took hold of his friend’s foot. He could see the apprehension in Violet’s face.

“I’ll keep hold of you if you want.”

“Um… sure…” she said, stepping over to him and placing her arms around Harry’s waist as he kept one around her, much like how Ron was holding onto Ginny.

Then they soon took off from the ground entirely, and Violet squeezed her eyes shut tight until her feet hit solid floor again.

* * *

Instinctively, the bird took them to Dumbledore’s office, where they waited outside as Mr and Mrs Weasley were summoned to the school to see their daughter. When they came out, plenty of thank yous and no problems were exchanged, although they were a little confused by who Violet was. The girl just kept her head down.

Soon, the three second years were summoned into the office.

“If I may, I would like to address Miss Merryworth first,” Dumbledore said. Violet finally made eye contact with him, curious as ever.

“Sir?” she couldn’t keep the confusion out of her voice either.

“I commend you, Miss Merryworth, for stepping up to help your peers despite not knowing them well, all the while remaining aware of your own self-preservation; simply because of the fact that you liked Miss Granger enough. You have also taken a liking to Mr Potter, have you not?”

Violet’s cheeks were now tinged a delicate pink, but she could not take her gaze away from the mischievous glint in Dumbledore’s eyes.

“My dear girl, I only mean that most of the words that have fallen from your mouth have been directed at him - particularly with homework, if I’m not mistaken?”

That was the point she risked a glance at Harry, who was trying his absolute best not to let out a laugh.

“For what it’s worth,” Dumbledore continued. “Perhaps your small act has started to prove why you may belong in Gryffindor after all. Courage can come in small doses. Introversion is wonderful, but making connections with others is nothing to be ashamed of as long as you can still protect yourself.”

Violet frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

He smiled gently at her. “Don’t be afraid of what might happen if you make friends, Miss Merryworth. A little trouble mixed with a little bravery can go a long way.”

“Right.”

“Twenty house points to you, Miss Merryworth, for helping others when you weren’t even sure if it were the right thing to do. Off you go now.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” she managed to stammer out before hurrying out of the office.

Violet wasn’t quite sure what to do now; Dumbledore seemed to know far too much. Then again, he was meant to be one of the greatest, most wise wizards of all time. Of course he knew what she could be like as a person. He probably knew something about  _ every _ student at the school. Nothing could get past that man,  _ nothing. _

Somewhat unnerved by the entire thing, Violet went to take refuge in the library. She probably should have gone to clean herself up first, but she just needed comfort and familiarity; she needed to be among the smell of books at the very least if she didn’t want to touch and dirty one up. She ended up sitting at one of the tables with her head resting on her arms; she was tired, and mulling over the events of the past day or so. How had she managed to get so wrapped up in it? It wasn’t like her at all. She was a good girl who obeyed the rules to get house points - not break them and end up with house points just because she had a rare bout of being courageous!

Violet would have dozed off after letting those thoughts run around in her head for some time were it not for someone tapping her on the shoulder. She looked up to see Harry then pull up a chair next to her.

“Are you alright?”

“I think so… it’s a lot to take in.”

He nodded in understanding. “Thank you, by the way.”

“I barely did anything.”

“Myrtle was in better spirits to talk to us for you being there. You helped Ron with all that rubble too! All because-”

“All because I wanted to make sure Hermione was okay,” Violet finished off for him. She then sighed, sitting up a little straighter. “Why are you here, Harry? How did you know I was here?”

“It made sense that you’d be here,” he shrugged. “And I want you to write to me in the summer.”

“O...kay…”

Harry was clearly finding her reaction amusing because he was grinning at her. “I think I can call you my friend. Can you call me your friend?”

She nodded, a sheepish smile finally coming to her face. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Cool. I’ll see you later.” Harry got up and started to make an exit from the library. After a moment’s thought, Violet then called after him.

“Harry! If you - well… where is it you said you lived?”

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Little Whinging in Surrey. Why?”

“Well I’m in West Sussex. Guildford, to be precise. If you want to visit, you can…?” There was a pained expression on her face, as if she wasn’t sure how to go about this in the slightest.

“Maybe writing letters is a good start, but I’ll think about it. Hopefully I’ll be allowed.”

She nodded and waved, and off he went.

Violet couldn’t help but sigh in relief the minute Harry disappeared. This whole making friends malarkey was easy, but also the most exhausting thing she had ever done. She couldn’t wait for the summer though.

It would be just her, her books, and maybe the occasional letter to write back to.

That sounded just fine to her.


	3. Summer, 1993

_ Dear Harry, _

_ If I’m being completely honest, I’ve never actually had a proper friend before. I like being on my own - it’s why I never really spoke to anyone at Hogwarts for the past couple of years. Thought I’d get that out the way first, just in case this letter comes across as awkward… _

_ How’s your summer going? I know it’s only been a week, but a lot can happen in a week I suppose. _

_ My ‘uncle’ visits two or three times a week. He’s not actually my uncle. He’s… interesting. Leaves me books every time. When I sit in the comfy chair in the living room reading, he sometimes joins me. It’s a bit odd, but alright. _

_ Oh, if you need any help with the homework, just let me know. _

_ Violet _

* * *

_ Dear Violet, _

_ Summer is going as well as it can - I don’t particularly like my aunt or uncle or cousin. Hogwarts is my home if anything. I’ll be okay. I’ve got you, Ron, and Hermione to talk to. Just have to be careful about the amount I send Hedwig out. _

_ Don’t worry about it. Your letter wasn’t awkward. _

_ I’m guessing your ‘uncle’ isn’t really your uncle? I’m sure he means well if he’s leaving you books. You’ll have to tell me more about him. _

_ Thanks for the homework offer, I think I’ll be fine. _

_ Write again soon. _

_ Harry _

* * *

The next thing that Violet sent to Harry was nothing but a picture - a Muggle one, one that didn’t move - of a cat. On the back of it, she wrote:  _ McGonagall? Is that you? _

Harry shook his head and chuckled. He slipped the picture into the back of the photo album that Hagrid had given him a couple of years previously.

* * *

_ Violet, _

_ I didn’t realise you had a sense of humour. That cat did look a bit like McGonagall. _

_ My uncle’s sister is coming round tomorrow. If you don’t hear from me for a few days, I’m probably dead. _

_ Harry _

* * *

“Bit dramatic…” Violet muttered to herself as she slipped the letter into a scrapbook.

It had been completely empty up until the point she and Harry had started writing to each other.

* * *

_ Harry, _

_ I’m sure you’ll be fine. _

_ Just don’t do anything stupid. _

_ Violet _

* * *

If Violet had been expecting more freedom over the summer, she could not have been more wrong. What with a serial killer on the loose, her parents had become oddly strict about her heading out and about after hours: she had a curfew to abide by. They also weren’t particularly keen on leaving her home alone either, so on the days they had to be gone for more than an hour, Violet had a pleasant visitor in the form of her uncle. Sometimes - if he stayed for dinner - she would hear the three of them talking about the killer when she had left the table and thought she was out of earshot. She was also told not to mention it to her ‘uncle.’

Not actually her uncle, as she always points out, but she has to call him that anyway.

Nowadays, he had a fun little habit of using the Floo Network right into the living room. Luckily he was pretty good at not scattering ash and dust everywhere, so it rarely disturbed Violet who was usually found in a big armchair in what she dubbed ‘the cosy reading corner.’ More often than not, her ‘uncle’ would pull up a seat next to her and read as well.

They had no reason to speak apart from greeting each other and acknowledging the other’s presence. It was the only form of ‘bond’ that they had nowadays, although it looked more like an unspoken stalemate because Violet’s ‘uncle’ had never really been able to get through to her. Secretly, she appreciated him coming to join her while reading, and secretly she appreciated the fact he would more often than not show up with a new book for her to borrow and silently leave it on the coffee table before leaving - it had progressed from him simply leaving a book outside her bedroom door. She was getting used to his company now, if only because she was away from it most of the year.

Except there was one hot July day this summer that was different. He Flooed in as per usual, they greeted each other as per usual, but he did not pull up a chair next to her in the corner. Instead, he sat on the sofa, waiting patiently for Violet to realise that there was something that needed to be spoken about.

It took about ten minutes before Violet slowly lowered her copy of  _ 1984 _ and scowled at her ‘uncle’ over the top of it.

“Something’s wrong.”

Her ‘uncle’ was currently in the process of rolling up the sleeves of his worn out shirt - it was far too hot for him to even be wearing a shirt on that particular day, but the strange scars on his arms made Violet give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I wouldn’t say  _ wrong _ as such, Violet, but perhaps something you might not like.” He leaned forward, and she ended up putting the book down in her lap and giving him her full attention.

“You’re not loaning me anymore books, is that it?” she said, a smirk coming to her face. He chuckled and shook his head.

“Oh no, far worse than that.”

She tilted her head to the side in slight confusion. “There’s something worse than that?”

“I’ve… accepted the position of being the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year at Hogwarts,” he said carefully, keeping his eyes trained on Violet so that he could gage her reaction.

It took a minute or two before she said anything.

“So you’ll be Professor Lupin, then?”

He nodded.

“No more ‘Uncle Remus,’” he then added.

“Well, thank goodness for that,” Violet said offhandedly, picking up her book again and getting right back to it, leaving him absolutely stumped.

“Is that it?”

“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to be annoyed about it?” she challenged him.

Lupin shrugged, at a loss for words for a brief moment. “You’re annoyed with me all the time, and this one thing is the  _ only _ thing about me that doesn’t get to you?”

“You’re acting like I should be mad because you have a job now!”

“It’s how you’ve been with me since you could talk - albeit you don’t do that very much - and thinking about it, Violet, why is that the case?” It was strange how calm he was able to remain; but she didn’t exactly deserve to him to be angry with her over something he didn’t know about.

What was more strange, was how defeated she looked when he asked her that question. She hid herself further within her book, and Lupin knew he wasn’t going to get an answer out of her that day.

Instead he sighed deeply, and grabbed the other armchair and pulled it over next to her as per usual. He picked a random book from the shelf behind him and sat down with it. Violet appeared to relax when he did that. Okay, talking wasn’t ever going to be their strong point, and that was fine with him.

So those days carried on; whenever Violet’s parents weren’t around, she and Lupin would sit in companionable silence while reading. One time they even went for a walk when the house was too hot to sit in. Then as August came to a close, Violet didn’t see Lupin again.

She rather enjoyed the trip to Diagon Alley, if only because her and her parents managed to run into Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Not dead, I see,” Violet murmured when Harry gave her a hug. The other two managed to catch the comment and eyed her oddly as she tentatively came in for hugs with them. “I’ll explain another time.” She turned to her parents and pointed at each of her new friends. “Harry, Ron, and Hermione.”

“If you want to give us the slip while we get your things, you can,” her father said with a wink. Her mother seemed rather shocked at the fact she had spoken to anyone that year - she hadn’t mentioned it.

“Leaky Cauldron in two hours, Violet,” Genevive said after a moment. “We’re going for dinner and want to be home before dark as per usual.”

Violet nodded and was waved off by her parents.

The four of them headed to Florean Fortescue’s for some ice cream as it was such a lovely; which Violet was surprised to find was given to them for free. She raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry.

“Explain.”

She was so blunt that it confused him a little.

“Huh?”

“The ice cream.”

“Oh. Well, Florean helped me with my History of Magic homework and just… made me not pay for it?”

Satisfied, Violet dug into the frozen dessert while they all fired off questions at her - ranging from ‘what did you do over the summer?’ to ‘why do you have to be back before dark?’ She winced a few times; they all definitely liked to chat a lot more than she was expecting. Either way, she ended up answering the last question first.

“Well… Sirius Black. Mum and dad are paranoid, I think, even though they know we’ll be completely fine.” Violet then shrugged. “Dreary topic of conversation so… my summer was quiet. I did my homework and I read a lot of books.”

“And sent Harry a picture of a cat?” Ron offered. “He showed us - definitely looked like McGonagall…”

Violet shot Harry a look as if to ask him  _ why, just why? _ and he mouthed a “sorry” at her.

“Meanwhile, Hermione’s one has been running after Scabbers…”

“Oh for goodness’ sake, Ronald!” Hermione snapped at him. “Must you bring it up whenever you run into someone who doesn’t know?”

Harry sighed as the two of them dissolved into what seemed to be a rather repetitive argument.

“They’ve been like this for the past day…” he murmured to her.

“I see… Do you think it’ll carry on throughout the year?” she asked him.

“Probably.”

“Fantastic,” Violet said sarcastically along with an eye roll.

Eventually Ron and Hermione calmed down a little, and the next couple of hours drifted by in a fun, summer haze. They wandered around Diagon Alley, chatting complete nonsense and marvelling over the new Firebolt broomsticks too. Well, Harry and Ron mostly did that. Hermione didn’t particularly care much for it, but Violet managed to feign some kind of interest.

When it was time for Violet to leave, they four headed back to the Leaky Cauldron where her parents were waiting with her new school supplies and robes. She hurried off towards them a little too quickly, turning round to give her friends an awkward wave when she realised how fast she had sped off.

“She’s an odd one,” Ron remarked after Violet had left with her parents.

“Hardly,” Hermione scoffed. “Violet’s not a people person. I can say that as someone who’s shared a dorm with her for two years.”

Harry hummed in agreement with Hermione, which prompted her to carry on talking.

“Although… she has taken quite a shine to you, Harry.”

“Yeah, only because she saw me struggling with homework that one time,” he said in a frank manner. “I’m surprised she doesn’t sit with you more, Hermione.”

She shrugged. “Just because we’re both studious doesn’t mean we have to be in each other’s company all the time.”

“I have a funny feeling you’ll be eating your words later on this year, Hermione,” Ron piped up.

* * *

Soon enough 1st September rolled around, and Violet and her parents were at platform nine and three quarters. The one thing she was not expecting was to spot Lupin and catch his eye while she was saying goodbye to her parents. He gestured with his head and walked onto the train. She sighed.

“Everything alright, love?” Thomas asked.

Violet nodded. “I think… I think ‘uncle’ wants me to sit with him.”

“Ah. Don’t give him a hard time this year.”

“I won’t,” she replied. “I’ll see you at Christmas. Love you.”

“Love you too,” her parents chanted after her as she hurried away so as not to lose Lupin. She didn’t want to be walking with him, but she wanted to keep close by.

The train was fairly empty as they had been quite early on arriving at the platform. Eventually she followed him into a compartment, where he sat by the window and she by the door. Lupin had already put his luggage in the overhead shelf.

“Boundaries?” Violet asked nonchalantly as she pulled a book from her bag and flipped it open.

“I won’t talk to you outside of lessons unless you come to me,” Lupin replied, getting a bottle of water and a glass out of one of his other bags. He poured himself some, setting it on the little table by the window.

“Good.”

“No preferential treatment either.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Violet murmured. “I’m actually quite good in class.”

“I suppose we’ll see,” Lupin smirked at her before settling down and shutting his eyes.

This was going to be an awfully long train ride if it was just going to be like this the entire way.


	4. The Train Journey

Within five minutes of the train setting off from Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Violet was pleasantly surprised by Harry, Ron, and Hermione making an appearance in the compartment she was in.

“Come on, everywhere else is full…” Hermione murmured as she wandered in first. She almost didn’t notice Violet. “Oh! You don’t mind if we-?”

“Go ahead,” Violet replied, her eyes barely flicking up from her book. “As for the sleeping man, he’s our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year.” She finally looked up to see the three of them staring at her rather bemused. “I’m quiet, not rude.”

Hermione settled down next to her with her cat while Ron sat at the window. Harry seated himself opposite Violet after he shut the compartment door.

“We can trust you, right?” he then hit her with. A little confused, Violet shut her book and actually gave the trio her full attention.

“I’m sorry?”

“There’s something I want to talk about - can we, well,  _ I _ trust you?” he gave a longer explanation that caused her to look at Ron and Hermione. They merely shrugged, as if to say “we can’t help you.”

“Yes. I’m hardly a blabbermouth, and you asked for my help towards the end of second year, remember?” Violet pointed out. “I think you already do trust me. Do go on.”

Harry then launched into the story of his conversation with Mr Weasley about Sirius Black escaping from Azkaban to come after him. It shocked Violet to see him speak so candidly about danger in that regard; she wasn’t going to say anything but thinking back over her parents’ hushed conversations in the summer, she decided to let a few things slip.

Violet briefly glanced over at Lupin to see if he really was asleep before saying anything.

“I think my parents were at school with Sirius Black,” she mumbled when Harry was done.

“ _ What? _ ”

“They didn’t know him, but… well, I’m very good eavesdropping you see-”

“We know,” Ron murmured. Hermione kicked him in the shin lightly.

“-And more often than not, this summer, whenever my uncle came round and I had left the dinner table… they’d talk about Black.”

“What did they say about him?” Hermione asked.

“Namely concerned about my safety. Said he was a troublemaker at school. I don’t - I don’t think they were in the same year as him, or - or they might have been, but… anything important I didn’t hear. Just trivia,” Violet concluded. “Everyone knows everyone.”

“So let me get this straight…” Ron started off. “Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban to come after Harry, and there’s likely a whole generation of people who know… stupid stories about him.”

“They’ll catch Black, won’t they?” Hermione said, adjusting her cat in her arms. “I mean, everyone’s looking for him.”

“They’ve been looking all summer and they’ve still not got him,” Violet pointed out, flicking her book back open. “Wouldn’t count on it…”

Harry raised a mildly unimpressed eyebrow. “Optimistic,” he remarked sarcastically.

“Realistic,” she countered calmly.

Well, that allowed for an awkward silence if anything, and the other three teenagers stared at Violet in shock. She could feel them all looking at her, and briefly glanced back up from her book.

“I don’t mean that in a horrible way,” she explained. “Just… they’ve all pretty useless, haven’t they?”

Still nothing.

“This is why I don’t open my mouth…” she then muttered to herself, allowing the trio to delve into lighter topics of conversation.

That was until at some point during the afternoon, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle walked past their compartment and tried to pick a fight. Even though Harry and Ron did plenty fine in defending themselves, Malfoy turned his attention to Violet.

“I see you picked up the Mute - how does that work? You talk? She nods? Or what?”

Before anyone could say anything, Violet slid the door shut with her foot with such nonchalance that it shocked the Slytherins on the other side, and the other three teens had to hold back laughter so as not to wake Lupin.

The Slytherins stalked off, annoyed.

“That was brilliant!” Ron told Violet with a grin on his face. She merely shrugged, a tiny smile on her face.

“Might as well keep up appearances for Malfoy - means I can have my own fun with it, not that I’m vengeful, just… he’s not worth my words.”

“I think the boys could learn a thing or two from you…” Hermione commented, earning a little smirk from Violet in the process.

At that moment, the train came to a sudden halt, and all the lights went out. All that could be heard was the noise of wind and rain pelting against the windows, and then the snap of a book shutting from Violet.

“Why are we stopping? We can’t be there yet,” Hermione said.

Ron had turned his attached to the window, which was beginning to ice over as the temperature in the compartment - and presumably the whole train - dropped.

“I think someone’s coming aboard…” he muttered.

“I’m going to see the driver…” Violet then said, getting up and opening the compartment door. The train jerked violently and she almost lost her balance, but carried on regardless.

As she stepped into the corridor of the train, she noticed there were other people running up and down it in a panic, trying to find their friends or siblings she assumed. She wrapped her arms around her middle and shivered as she started to make her way towards the front of the train, when she saw it.

Two dark, hooded creatures, drifting their way down the train and making their way into compartments.

Violet had no idea what they were, but she promptly turned on her heel and hurried back to the compartment. She made a beeline for Lupin in the corner, sitting between him and Harry and trying to desperately wake him up.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t even make it to the driver…” she muttered. “Professor?” she said louder, giving him a little shake. 

“What is it? Why are you trying to wake him up?” Hermione asked, frightened.

“Nothing good… nothing good…”

“Violet!” Hermione squeaked, as the door to their compartment was opened once more, and in came one of the creatures.

She froze up and turned, feeling an intense kind of dread overpower her as it drifted inside. She - along with the rest of them - could only watch in horror as it turned its attention to Harry, and he seemed to seize up.

Not a few moments later, Lupin finally woke up and muttered something as he drew his wand, a bright white light emitting from it. It drove the creature away from Harry, who then promptly passed out with his head in Violet’s lap. His glasses dropped off his face and onto the floor.

Within a few minutes of Lupin settling back down, the lights on the train had flickered back on and they were on the move again.

“Is everyone alright?” he asked the teens, reaching inside his cloak to put away his wand and pull out a rather hefty bar of chocolate, beginning to break it apart.

They all nodded awkwardly, with Violet prodding at Harry to try and get him to wake up - she didn’t really know what to do. Hermione dropped down in front of the pair, picking up Harry’s glasses and rousing in a much more natural way.

Hermione handed the glasses back to him, and when he realised that his head was on Violet’s lap, he sat up a lot more quickly. The other girl breathed a sigh of relief, and Hermione went to sit back on her seat.

“Here…” Lupin said, handing them all a chunk of chocolate each, giving a larger piece to Harry in particular. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”

“What - what was that?” Harry asked, glancing at the door.

“A Dementor. One of the guards of Azkaban,” Lupin replied. “Searching the train for Sirius Black. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to have a word with the driver…”

He stood up and made his way out of the compartment, before ducking his head back in briefly.

“Miss… Merryworth, wasn’t it?”

Violet nodded, and Lupin gave her a gentle smile.

“Would you mind accompanying me?"

She looked between her friends oddly. “Um… of course, sir.”

She followed Lupin out.

As they walked down the corridor - and were certain they were some way away from their compartment - he spoke to her in a more normal way, as if they weren’t on their way to Hogwarts and he wasn’t going to be her teacher.

“You were trying to wake me up,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I was on my way to the driver when I saw them.”

Lupin stopped rather abruptly and turned towards her. “Are you alright?”

Violet shrugged rather nonchalantly. “It wasn’t… I…” she was struggling to find the words. “I’m fine, but I felt really weird. Like there was a never ending dread filling me.”

He nodded and resumed walking towards the front of the train.

“That is the intended effect of a Dementor. Eat the chocolate, Violet, please.”

She sighed but did as she was told, surprised to find a warmth entering her pretty quickly after she did start to nibble on the piece she had. By the time they got up front to the driver, Violet had polished off the chocolate and was in better spirits. She didn’t go in to see the train driver with Lupin, but waited patiently outside.

Violet leaned against the wall taking a deep breath, feeling more shaken than she realised. She suspected Ron and Hermione felt the same, but Harry? She can’t imagine what had been going through his mind if he had outright fainted because of the Dementor.

“We’ll be at Hogwarts in about half an hour,” Lupin said as he wandered out into the corridor again, making Violet jump and stand upright. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be so abrupt,” he then added, leading the way back to the compartment.

She didn’t say anything in response, and merely kept her head down. Even getting back to their seats she didn’t say anything to her friends, opting to resume reading her book.

Conversation was more hushed from that point onwards, with Lupin participating every now and then.

Regardless, Violet couldn’t help but notice the worried glances he kept throwing at her.


	5. First Day

Violet hadn’t expected herself to be that spooked by the Dementor, but it left her silent on the carriage ride up to the school in the torrential downpour. The others stopped trying to include her in conversation because she clearly wasn’t up to talking. Even in the Great Hall, she said nothing. She sat there only half listening to announcements and eating her food in complete silence.

At some point Violet risked a glance up at the staff table where she caught Lupin watching her; the eye contact was too obvious. She looked away pretty quickly, hoping that he wouldn’t try and pester her about this any further over the next week or so.

Not even the hilarity of the Fat Lady’s terrible singing voice could lift her spirits either, so Violet went to bed straight away upon entering the Gryffindor Common Room. She found herself unable to sleep properly that night, instead dreaming of nearly walking right into the Dementors. Dreaming of her newly found friend being so deeply affected by just one Dementor that he fainted right onto her lap.

Around about midnight, Violet gave up trying to sleep for the time being and decided to get some air in the Common Room.

The door to the boys dormitory was cracked open and she could see they were all still awake and having a rather good time. There was smoke coming out of Harry’s ears, and she stopped to watch for a moment as the five boys erupted into a pillow and sweets fight after that moment.

When she accidentally caught Harry’s eye, Violet jumped and hastily made her way downstairs as she had intended in the first place.

The fire was beginning to die down, but she still sat fairly close to it anyway, grateful for the last specks of warmth from it that she didn’t realise she so desperately needed. As fine as she physically felt now, Violet couldn’t help but let her mind wander back to the train over and over again, and that feeling of eternal dread that was in her. She didn’t know much about the Dementors or Azkaban, but the idea of having to be in that environment for any longer than two minutes really was one of the worst things possible…

“Hey,” Harry’s voice startled her. She shot him a shy smile before turning back to stare at the fire, where he came to join her. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Violet nodded.

“But you can’t?”

She shook her head.

“Okay,” he then said, and simply sat there with her, which only served to confuse her. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes of silence passed, before-

“Why are you sitting here with me?” she asked him quietly.

The corners of Harry’s lips twitched upwards ever so slightly.

“Don’t think we didn’t notice you not saying a word since the incident on the train. You alright?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never felt a dread like that. Can’t imagine how you felt.”

Harry fell quiet for a moment. “I think I heard my mum screaming.”

A rush of sympathy coursed through Violet. “Oh, Harry, I’m sorry. And here’s me worrying about a strange kind of unhappiness!”

He looked at her oddly.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to… to…” he frowned. “What’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Quantify the level of which someone was affected by the Dementor?” she suggested.

“Er yeah - um, that, I guess…” Harry paused for a moment. “If you can’t sleep again, come grab me.”

Violet nodded awkwardly. “Well… same goes for you…”

They both stood up and wandered back up to their respective dormitories.

It was in that moment Violet realised that she may or may not have a habit of dwelling on things far too much. May or may not. She couldn’t be sure yet, it was one of the few things that she could add to her mental list of what she had dwelt on.

For the rest of the night she slept a little easier, but not enough to be fully refreshed the next morning. She granted her lucky stars that she at least was awake and hadn’t slept in on the first day of lessons, but she was later than the others down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

“Good morning,” she said to Hermione, Harry, and Ron a little sleepily. Her general demeanour and the fact she had even spoken to them managed to grab the three of them out of whatever argument they were having.

Violet rubbed her eyes and stared at her friends in confusion as she slid onto the bench.

“Have I missed something?”

“Hermione’s mental timetable!” Ron exclaimed. Violet raised an eyebrow at the other girl, before gesturing for her to hand it over; which she did.

Violet fiddled with the end of her long, plaited hair as she looked from the oddly packed timetable to Hermione, surveying the girl rather intensely, and back again. After a few moments, she shrugged and handed it back.

“It seems fine to me,” she concluded, before helping herself to a couple of slices of toast, throwing a wink at Hermione in the process. Ron’s jaw dropped; he was about to protest, but with the look that Violet then shot him, he opted not to say anything.

“How comes you’re down here late anyway?” Harry asked, opting for a change in subject as he passed Violet’s timetable to her.

“Overslept,” she said simply, casting him an odd look, before surveying her own timetable. “And you know, I don’t think I’m going to particularly care for Divination this year. I’m sure I’ll make myself care.”

She was good at conversation enders, that was for sure.

About ten minutes later, the four friends headed to their first subject of the year: Divination. None of them were particularly enthused about it, especially not because they had to make their way up the north tower which took far too long for their liking.

For the first time ever, Violet found herself actually zoning out in a class. Professor Trelawney was clearly not the kind of teacher she liked, and she along with the rest of her classmates had been putting up with Professor Binns for History of Magic for the past two years. This was truly something else. It had absolutely nothing to do with the eccentric nature of Trelawney, but rather the level of drama involved.

She found herself internally agreeing with Hermione’s dry remarks about how ridiculous the subject was throughout the lesson, not even remotely interested in what was going on. Although there was some kind of amusement she took out of Harry supposedly being the one who was going to die this year.

As if he hadn’t heard that before.

Either way, the interpretation of Violet’s tea leaves didn’t sit well with her: something in regards to a tiresome journey that would lead to misery, but from misery would come happiness. Whatever that meant, she didn’t care about it  _ too _ deeply, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t occupy the back of her mind for now.

McGonagall’s dry tone and attitude towards the prediction of Harry’s death made the entire thing a little more entertaining; well, more entertaining for Violet. Maybe not necessarily for Harry.

While their professor was lecturing them about Animagi and everyone was scribbling down as many notes as possible, Violet gave Harry a nudge.

“Come on,” she hissed. “Pinch of salt, and all that. Besides, McGonagall did say if you  _ do _ die, you don’t have to hand in homework… Surely you’re behind that, right?”

“And you are?” Harry murmured back.

Violet shrugged. “It depends on the situation.”

“Miss Merryworth, if you and Mr Potter are  _ quite _ finished…” McGonagall called over to them, making them jump.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Violet replied. Harry shot her an odd look for that response, which led to the girl rolling her eyes and getting back to note taking.

By the time lunch rolled around, everyone seemed to be in slightly better spirits, if not because it meant that they were drawing near to their first Care of Magical Creatures class with Hagrid. It was the first lesson they had that afternoon.

While the trio were chatting, Violet had a textbook propped open so she could read more on Animagi - it was a fascinating area of magic, and she wondered if one day she could do the same. Although, she wasn’t entirely sure what animal she would be if she could become one. The process - as she was reading through it - seemed rather arduous and long.

Perhaps it was something to think about for later on.

She was brought out of her thoughts by Hermione slamming down an Arithmancy textbook and storming off, her bag already packed more tightly with books than it had been this morning.

“Really, Ron, leave her alone. She’s got it figured out,” Violet said in an offhand manner as she went back to her book and flipped a page, her suspicions about Hermione getting to all those lessons beginning to grow.

“But she’s not even had Arithmancy yet!”

“Uh huh,” she replied. “Then that would also mean she’s not had Muggle Studies yet either.”

“She was in Divination with us! She can’t have done!”

Violet sighed. “Did you see her bag as she left?”

“No…”

“It’s far more filled up, specifically with books from Muggle Studies.”

Harry and Ron stared at her, frowning.

“How do you manage to notice everything?” Harry asked.

“I prefer people watching than talking to people most of the time,” she replied. “Surely you would have realised that after being in the same house as me for two years?”

The boys glanced at each other awkwardly, causing Violet to shake her head and properly go back to focusing on her reading. She kept an ear tilted towards Harry and Ron, listening to them natter on about how the rest of the day was going to pan out, how they thought Hermione was crazy for taking so many subjects… the usual from them, really.

They ended up catching up with Hermione again when it was time for Care of Magical Creatures - in which the lesson occurred in a clearing at the edge of the forest - and the issue of the biting books became rather prominent. Violet found it particularly annoying that Hagrid acted as if stroking the book’s spine to open it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She couldn’t help but think the Hippogriff was rather sweet, oddly enough. Not that she would go near it, but she could admire the beast - sure. The tension that came with Harry even going up to Buckbeak was far too much; Violet found herself unintentionally worrying for the boy, relieved as the rest of the class when he successfully got to pet it.

Things took a more interesting turn for her when Harry took flight.

The afternoon had been relatively warm, so all the students were beginning to take off their cloaks and jumpers. Violet noticed something rather… curious about Hermione. Particularly something swinging from her neck.

Violet frowned and went up to her friend, grabbing the item and holding it up. Hermione’s eyes widened and she yanked it out of her grip, proceeding to then drag Violet away from the gaggle of students.

“You can’t tell  _ anyone _ ,” Hermione hissed at her when they were far enough away from everyone else.

“I wouldn’t, don’t worry…”

“How did you-?”

“You had more books in your bag by lunchtime, I thought you had to be doing  _ something _ to get to all of those lessons this morning,” Violet paused for a moment. “You should really keep the Time Turner better hidden,” she added.

Hermione rolled her eyes, tucking it back into her shirt. “Just because  _ you _ notice everything, doesn’t mean everyone else will.”

“Yes, but… you don’t want to be careless, do you?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Violet…”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist a little bit of teasing,” Violet shot her a sheepish smile.

“Promise you won’t say anything?”

Violet placed her hand over her heart. “You have my word.”

“Thanks,” Hermione smiled at her.

Their attention was brought back to class by screaming. They ran back over to see Malfoy on the ground crying out in pain, and Hagrid trying to calm Buckbeak down. The girls glanced at each other in shock, and looked over at Harry who was equally bemused by the entire ordeal.

Eventually the Hippogriff calmed down and wandered off to go eat a ferret that Hagrid tossed to him.

“Hagrid, he has to be taken to the hospital!” Hermione called out upon hearing Malfoy’s whines. The teacher nodded frantically, picking up the boy and walking out of the clearing, dismissing class in the process.

Well, that had certainly been an eventful first day to say the least.


	6. Family Ties

After the initial excitement of the first day back, Violet took to withdrawing herself a little more again. It was absolutely nothing against anyone else for she would gladly sit with Hermione most of the time in lessons, or Harry if he fancied being separated from Ron for an hour. She found herself fiddling with the end of her plait that she always had her hair in.

It took about a day and a half for Violet to realise constantly having to be “on” and socialising with her peers in the way she had been was stressing her out, especially because she kept being dragged back into the conversation revolving around Hermione’s timetable. Again.

Ron tried to ask for her opinion once again - apparently he didn’t know how to drop something - and Violet merely sighed very deeply, got up from the lunch table with her belongings, and left the rest of them to it. She ignored the shocked calls after her, she quite literally kept her head down and let her feet automatically find the route to the library.

It was dead silent in the library this lunchtime. Only Madam Pince seemed to be about, and Violet was grateful for that.

She went to find a table in a corner tucked away near the restricted section and made a start on the first few pieces of homework they had received that week. She breathed in relief, managing to stop fiddling with her hair too. The silence that echoed through the library brought a small bit of peace to Violet, her shoulders slumping as she was able to relax.

All that she could hear now was the scratching of her quill as she started on a Charms essay, and it was pure bliss. She could have sent herself to sleep with that sound if she hadn’t been concentrating on the contents of her homework; that’s all her thoughts were at this point. No need to worry about listening in on a conversation between her friends just in case she wanted to actually join in, nor did she have to hear about Hermione’s timetable or even Crookshanks.

She paused for a moment as the thought of her friends popped into her head. She knew she would miss their company in down time hours, but for now… being alone was what she needed.

When it came to the end of lunch, Violet had completed her Charms homework for this week, and quite happily made her way to Herbology where she decided to join Hermione. The other girl didn’t say anything about Violet’s rather abrupt exit at lunch, and they just got on with the work they were supposed to be getting on with.

She sat with them at dinner later on but didn’t really say much as she had brought a book along to read. There was a squabble revolving around Crookshanks and Scabbers, which Violet opted to tune out of immediately and focus on the book instead.

After that, Violet wandered back to the library to carry on working. There were a few more students in there this evening, but she was able to sit at the same table as before. Unfortunately her peace didn’t last too long: an older Slytherin and an older Ravenclaw decided to join her.

Violet sighed quietly and put down her quill to find the last people on earth she wanted to see at this current moment in time.

The Ravenclaw was a boy of sixteen, with messy dark brown hair, a round face, and bright blue eyes that could pierce someone’s soul. The Slytherin next to him was a boy of seventeen, with the same round face and blue eyes, except his hair was more of a light brown shade and slicked back.

“Hello Violet,” the Slytherin sneered.

“What are you doing here alone?” asked the Ravenclaw. “Thought you had friends now?”

“I’m still allowed my alone time, Dexter…” she told him, trying to hold a stern face. “What do you two want? You’ve barely acknowledged me for the past two years, why start now?”

“Thought we might come and say hello to our little cousin…” Dexter replied, a smirk coming to his face. “Isn’t that right, Willmot?”

The Slytherin next to him gave Violet a rather menacing grin. “Oh yes. I had my first lesson with your… ah, ‘uncle’ earlier today. He’s not bad, you might need to give him a chance.”

Her facade faltered, and Willmot chuckled as she paled.

“Don’t worry, we already knew.”

“How?” she squeaked out.

“Well it’s not like you’re a part of our family anyway…” he murmured. “Aunt Geni had to go make her own, didn’t she?”

“Shut up,” Violet said through gritted teeth.

“Nice to see you actually talk, though,” Willmot carried on. “Didn’t even know you could. That little prick Malfoy refers to you as ‘the Mute’ constantly if he ever gets a chance to dig on you…”

Violet was staring down at the table now, unable to make eye contact with either of her cousins.

“Keep your head down little one,” Dexter said. “Maybe don’t get too involved with your new friends, unless you want trouble.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say anything, and that was when the boys knew they had gotten to her.

“We’ll see you around, Merryworth… Try not to out you and your pitiful uncle - as good as a teacher he is, god he could use a new wardrobe…”

She waited until she knew that the boys were both gone before frantically gathering up her things and hurrying back to the Gryffindor Common Room. She was shaking rather a lot, something she didn’t notice until stopping to give the Fat Lady the password.

The minute she got into the Common Room she made a beeline for where Harry was sitting by the fireplace. She dropped her things, grabbed him by the hand, and dragged him outside.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

Violet didn’t answer but took an immediate right up the nearest staircase that she knew would take them to the seventh floor corridor. It was empty, which was a good enough place for the pair of them to talk. She was getting worked up over the smallest of things, and she kept pacing up and down in front of Harry.

“Violet…” he reached out and took hold of her sleeve. She turned to him, pained, the colour only starting to come back to her face.

“I don’t - I don’t have the most functional family…” she murmured, shrugging out of his grip and clasping her hands behind her back.

He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

“My dad is a Muggleborn. Mum is from a pure blood family who - well, they’re purists through and through. She was completely disowned when I was born, but… I have two cousins still here, at Hogwarts. A sixth year Ravenclaw, and a seventh year Slytherin.”

“What are they like?”

Violet shook her head, her lips pursed. “Not nice. They - they just came to taunt me in the library because of… something family related.” She took a deep breath. “Nobody on my mum’s side is nice. They’re all  _ awful _ and I’m glad that we don’t talk to them, but… I think I’m scared of them. Dexter. Willmot.”

“Why?” Harry frowned in confusion.

Her shoulders sank. “I don’t know. I suppose it’s because I know where they come from -  _ what _ they come from.” Violet paused a moment and took a step back from Harry. “Sorry, I - I haven’t really spoken that much about them before. Sorry for throwing this on you.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured her. “Seriously. Can’t imagine what whirls around in your head you’re so quiet,” Harry then joked. She gave him a small smile.

“Please don’t tell the others?” she then pleaded.

“I won’t. Come on, let’s head back before Filch catches us...”

“It’s not even that late,” Violet remarked as they headed back towards the Grand Staircase.

“Yeah, but it’s Filch.” Harry shrugged.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what? Doing what any other normal friend would do?” he quipped back. “You don’t need to say thanks.”

She felt her cheeks grow warm at that. “Right.”

He shot her a questioning look. “You’ve really not had proper friends for two years, have you?”

“I did tell you in my letter in the summer…”

“Yeah, I um…” Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I didn’t think you were being that serious…  _ Fortuna Major. _ ” They’d reached the Common Room by now, and Harry gestured for Violet to go in ahead of him.

Hermione and Ron were giving them curious looks as they came back over to the fireplace, Violet picking up her belongings.

“I’m heading to bed early…” she told the other two. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Night.”

As she headed up to the dormitory, she heard Hermione and Ron asking Harry what had happened, with the boy managing to cover her pretty nicely.

She dropped her things by her bedside table and changed into her pyjamas before closing the curtains on her four poster bed, collapsing onto it after. The quiet that was usually her friend seemed to press in on her now, making her ears throb. Dexter and Willmot approaching her in the library wouldn’t leave her mind: they’d had two whole years previous to do it, why now?

Was it because of Lupin? Did they want to hold that over her, maybe? From what she knew about that half of the family, she wouldn’t put it past the boys to do that.

Violet fell into an uneasy sleep that night, waking up every couple of hours. By the time six in the morning rolled around, she gave up trying to sleep any longer and got ready for the day.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione found her curled up in an armchair reading later that morning.

The day passed by awfully slowly, with Malfoy making his dramatic return to class in Potions; of course that gave Harry and Ron their own problems to deal with. The Slytherin boy tried to poke fun at Violet, but she merely ignored it and remained focused on what was in her cauldron. That was until-

“Willmot sends his regards, Merryworth. Offered me some good material, actually. I’ll get a rise out of you one day.”

Violet’s cheeks flushed.

“Who’s Willmot?” Ron asked.

“None of your business,” she hissed at him, in the middle of chopping up something.

Malfoy’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “So you  _ do _ talk.”

Violet slammed the knife down, which gained the attention of Snape.

“Miss Merryworth,  _ do you mind? _ ” the teacher sneered at her. She sank down in her chair and managed to go an even deeper red colour, if that was at all possible.

The rest of the lesson went as about smoothly as it could after that.

Violet said nothing for the rest of the day, and Harry couldn’t even get her to be excited about the first Defence Against the Dark Arts class of the year. Admittedly she had been looking forward to being taught by Lupin, but there was also the fact it  _ was _ Lupin.

When they filtered into the classroom, they found that all the desks and chairs had been cleared to one side. Lupin stood at the front of the class with a rattling wardrobe. The students all gathered as close as they dared.

“Intriguing, isn’t it?” he started. “Anybody know what’s in there?”

“That’s a Boggart,” piped up Dean Thomas.

“Very good, Mr Thomas. Now, could anybody tell me what a Boggart looks like?”

“No-one knows,” Hermione had suddenly appeared behind Ron. The ginger boy was thoroughly confused. Violet merely shook her head.  _ Really subtle, Hermione, _ she thought to herself.

“And why is that?”

“They turn into a person’s worst fear,” Violet finally found her voice for the afternoon.

“Correct, Miss Merryworth. Now…”

Lupin launched into a demonstration on how to defeat a Boggart. Of course, poor Neville was the unlucky first volunteer to test it out. Either way, it served as great entertainment: his worst fear was Snape, who then ended up transforming to be wearing Neville’s grandmother’s clothes.

Perhaps Defence Against the Dark Arts could be something Violet became more interested in.

Ron’s fear of spiders was quenched by the incredibly large insect ending up in roller skates and falling over. That got a good chuckle out of the class.

Parvati’s massive cobra snake turned into a clownish jack in the box; odd, considering clowns were fairly frightening in their own regard.

When it came to Violet’s turn, she gulped. Of course, much like everybody else in the room she didn’t exactly want to face her worst fear - but there they all were. Admittedly, the outcomes of the  _ Riddikulus _ charm were amusing, and that was the only thing that was keeping her going; probably the same for everyone else too.

She stepped forward almost sheepishly, and the Boggart began its transformation.

When the werewolf came into being in front of everyone, there were a few shocked gasps of fear. Violet stood absolutely stock still, staring the hunched over creature that stood on its hind legs as it snarled at her. Still, she couldn’t move. She couldn’t bring herself to even say the spell.

_ It’s not real, it’s not real… _ she kept telling herself.

The moment it hopped forward and snapped at her, Violet flinched and was able to move again. In one swift, calm motion, she raised her wand-

“Riddikulus!”

The werewolf turned into a little yapping puppy.

Her lips twitched upwards into a half smile briefly, before she made eye contact with Lupin who appeared to be somewhat disconcerted. Violet then darted to the back of the classroom and waited out the rest of the lesson there; which wasn’t too long, considering Harry’s Boggart came up as a Dementor which for some reason prompted Lupin to jump in front. The Boggart shifted to something strange; a moon, or a crystal ball.

Lupin cast the spell and ended the lesson early, much to the disappointment of the class. They all began to filter out, murmuring about the abrupt ending.

Violet hovered, though, unintentionally. Her feet rooted themselves to the spot once more as the moment with the werewolf just now replayed in her head over and over.

“Violet? Are you alright?” Lupin’s gentle voice brought her back to reality.

They were the only two left in the classroom, and he was wandering over to her. Violet picked her bag up off the floor, nodding.

“Tea?” he offered.

“No, thank you,” she murmured, heading towards the door and keeping her head down.

“Violet,” his voice was more stern now. It made her stop and turned around just as she touched the door handle. “I know we agreed not to interact outside of lessons unless you approached me, but…”

“But…?”

“Let’s go for a walk after dinner and talk.”

She shook her head. “No, thank you,” she repeated.

“I wasn’t asking,” he told her with a raised eyebrow, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Violet sighed. “Fine.”

“I’ll be in the Clocktower Courtyard at seven.”

She nodded and finally left.

To her surprise, Harry was waiting outside the classroom for her, leaning against the wall.

“Hey!” he said, immediately jumping to stand straight and walk alongside her. “Everything alright?”

“Peachy,” Violet replied. “Just um… bothering Professor Lupin about this year’s work,” she then managed to lie. Harry bought it. “Why were you waiting for me?”

“Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to sit together this evening? You know…”

She smirked. “So I can mutter answers to you?”

Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Er, yeah, I guess?”

“I can sit before dinner, and then maybe quite late after. I’ve already done the Charms homework…”

They carried on making small talk like that on the way back up to the Gryffindor Common Room, all thoughts about Defence Against the Dark Arts gone. Violet was even surprised at herself for being able to be so chatty with Harry; to be fair to him, he was a pretty easy person to talk to.

Ron and Hermione had found a table in the Common Room and reserved the pair some seats, and the four of them all sat working together mostly in silence before dinner. Every now and then Ron would strike up a conversation with Harry, or Violet would offer Harry some answers to whatever work he was struggling on. It was business as normal, and for once an argument didn’t break out between anybody.

Violet got a little antsy around dinner time, checking her watch every five minutes because she knew she was going to have to go back up to the dormitory to change before heading out to meet Lupin. The other three could tell something was up, but they didn’t ask about it. Not even when she left dinner early.

After changing and heading to the Clocktower Courtyard, Violet sat on one of the benches when she realised she was a few minutes early. She fiddled with the end of her plait in anticipation and nervousness that not even Lupin’s warm smile could soothe when he appeared at exactly seven o’clock on the dot.

“Good evening, Violet,” he said to her as she got up from her seat and she joined him walking towards the bridge that would take them to the grounds.

“Good evening, professor,” she replied a little monotonously, which did not go unnoticed.

“I have something for you…” he said, pulling a rather decrepit book out from a pocket in his cloak and handing it to the girl.

Violet took it and frowned. “ _ Folio Bruti _ … what’s this for?”

“I thought perhaps you might want some extra reading. It’s very old and has a few pages missing, but I’m sure you’ll look after it well. I’d like it back once you’re done with it,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice brighter. “So... apart from the book, why did you want to talk?”

“Well, I wanted to make you aware of the fact that Dumbledore does know about our ties outside of school, in case you were worried about that.”

That was something she hadn’t thought of: other teachers finding out or knowing about this. She’d been too concerned about the other students.

Lupin chuckled. “You hadn’t given that a second thought? It’s showing on your face.”

Violet rolled her eyes, so he continued.

“Look, you can talk to me any time, you know that right?”

They were about three quarters of the way down the bridge at this point, and almost in the stone circle. Violet said nothing.

“Sweet girl-”

“Don’t,” she winced. “Not here. I know we’re on our own, but  _ please _ not here.”

He nodded. “Apologies; habit. Anyway… if you don’t feel like writing a letter and waiting for a response from your parents, I am here for you. Any time of day. And after today…”

“I don’t - I don’t know if I want to talk about it. Or do you know?”

“Geniveve may have mentioned something…” Lupin said cryptically. “Did it… do anything?”

“No,” Violet muttered. “It looked at me. All the werewolf did was look at me… and it ran off.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I see.”

Violet leaned back against one of the stones with her arms crossed, a little impatient. “Why are you asking me about this?”

“If I’m going to be your teacher for at least the next year, I want to break down whatever wall there is between us. Besides, you held your ground very well today.”

She nodded, but didn’t acknowledge the compliment in the slightest.

“Do you know Willmot and Dexter Oaks?” she then asked abruptly.

“Your cousins? Yes. I have them for lessons. Why?” Lupin was a little suspicious. “Have they done something?”

“They spoke to me for the first time yesterday evening…” Violet mumbled. “They know about you and they tried to make a dig about that you’re essentially the only ‘relative’ I have...” She even made the air quotation marks upon saying the word ‘relative.’ Lupin ignored that.

“Would you like me to have a word?”

Violet shook her head vehemently. “No, because then they’d just find me again and make digs about that…” She felt incredibly put out, and was almost glad for Lupin being there. As much as she disliked the idea, he was an adult that she could trust for the time being. It was comforting to be able to speak more openly about this to someone who may actually be able to help.

“How about I figure out a way of slowly alerting them to the fact that they probably shouldn’t be picking on you?” There was a strange mischievous glint in Lupin’s eye that Violet decided not to question.

“Alright…” she agreed, a little uneasy. “As long as you run it by me first.”

“Wouldn’t dream of doing anything without your permission,” Lupin said, bowing his head a little.

Violet still wasn’t quite sold. “This almost feels like you’re actually my uncle and I’m actually your niece.”

She started to head back up towards the castle, and called back over her shoulder:

“No offence, but can we not do this again any time soon?”

As she carried on walking, she completely missed the flicker of hurt on Lupin’s face as she left him standing there.


	7. Detention

Without a doubt Lupin had definitely won over the third years, and Defence Against the Dark Arts became everyone’s favourite lesson. Even Violet had to admit that the lessons were incredible. As much as she tried to hide her enjoyment, Lupin would always give her a knowing look at the end of each lesson.

Eventually, Violet’s grade in the class went from an Exceeds Expectations and up to an Outstanding: she put it down to the fact the lessons were actually engaging in comparison to previous years. She was perfectly happy to sit there, pay attention, and get on with the work like every other class she had, but Lupin had a fondness for calling on volunteers.

She was hoping that she’d escape.

She was wrong.

“Now, everyone, please settle down…” Lupin called out to the class one morning. They all adored and respected him to the point that they did indeed fall into silence. “I know I set you some  _ optional _ reading on Kappas before we dive into fully exploring them, but…”

His eyes were scanning over the students rather intently.

“Hmm, who here has done the reading?”

A handful of students raised their hands, Violet among them.

“Very good,” he remarked, and they all put their hands down. Lupin wandered over to the desk and picked up a piece of chalk. “Who would like to - from memory - draw a Kappa, and identify one of its main features?”

Of course, Hermione’s hand immediately shot into the air, and Lupin smiled.

“As much as I admire your enthusiasm, Miss Granger,” he said, walking towards the desk she was sitting at with Violet, “but I think I shall give this one to Miss Merryworth.”

He stopped next to them, holding the chalk out of Violet who had sunk down in her chair, looking down at her lap and going bright red. The rest of the students were waiting with bated breath for her to take the damn chalk; she was never called on like this. She’d only answer questions if she put her hand up.

Slowly but surely, Violet took the piece of chalk and made her way up to the board.

She was by no means artistic, so the drawing of the scaly monkey demon was sloppy at best. The important thing was that she had the concave head that carried water, which she labelled as the main feature.

Without uttering a single word, Violet handed the chalk back to Lupin and returned to her seat.

“Excellent, Miss Merryworth,” he said after a few moments of studying her drawing. “You’ve identified the weak point of a Kappa, which…”

It went on from there, learning the tricks on what to do to defeat a Kappa should they come across one.

The only lesson that Violet seemed to truly dread nowadays was Potions; she wasn’t the only one either. After the Boggart incident Snape was particularly more cruel to Neville, and Malfoy would take the opportunity to try and get a rise out of Violet regarding Willmott. Every Potions lesson that passed, she appeared to be progressing from pink to red slowly but surely.

Unfortunately she managed to earn herself a detention by taking her ladle out of the cauldron and throwing it at Malfoy as she finally snapped. Nobody had been expecting it, least of all Violet herself.

“You’ve just earned yourself detention, Miss Merryworth, and ten points from Gryffindor,” Snape sneered at her while Malfoy sniggered quietly at a table over from her. She kept her head down for the rest of the lesson after that. At the end of it, she ended up having to hang back so that Snape could inform her of the details of the aforementioned detention.

Violet timidly approached the professor who loomed over her with a very unfriendly, piercing stare. Snape waited until the last of the students filtered out before he began to talk.

“You’re quite adept at my class aren’t you, Miss Merryworth?”

She frowned. “Sir?”

“And you don’t talk out of turn unlike Miss Granger,” he continued, ignoring her confusion and beginning to slowly pace up and down in front of her. “At this current moment in time I’m in the process of brewing Wolfsbane. It’s a rather complex potion that you could assist me with over the course of the next few evenings.”

Now that only further her confusion. “May I ask a few questions, sir?”

He folded his arms but nodded.

“Why are you making Wolfsbane? Unless there’s someone at Hogwarts who’s a werewolf? Finally, this doesn’t feel much like a detention - why are you getting me to help you?”

“To answer your first two questions, I’m making Wolfsbane to show as an example to some of my sixth year students. You’ll also be marking plenty of homework with me for the rest of the week. This is not a reward, Miss Merryworth, it’s a test.”

Violet nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“I will expect you back here at seven o’clock sharp this evening for the rest of the week. Now get out.”

“Yes, sir,” she repeated and scurried off.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all waiting for her outside the classroom with bated breath. She sighed in relief upon seeing her friends as they then wandered up to the Great Hall for lunch.

“So? What did he say?” Harry asked as they ascended from the dungeons.

“It was really weird,” Violet began. “This is my first detention! He’s getting me to mark first year homework by the sounds of things, but also help him brew a complex Potion?”

“Which one?” Hermione asked, intrigued.

“Wolfsbane. To show as an example for his sixth year students.”

They were all just as confused as she was, although Hermione was contemplative on top of that.

“Maybe he was lying, Violet,” she suggested. “Why would he tell the truth about that anyway?”

The other girl shrugged as they finally entered the Great Hall, heading to find a good spot for the four of them at the Gryffindor table.

“Lying or not, I had plans this evening,” Violet said.

“You? Plans? What were you gonna do? Charms homework in the library?” Ron offered sarcastically.

Violet shook her head in disdain at him. “No, I was actually planning on doing some further reading on Animagi. I was reading about them a few weeks ago in one of our textbooks. Thought I might branch out more,” she said, helping herself to some soup.

“Animagi?”

“Wizards that can transform themselves into animals - it’s a tricky process, and I wanted to learn more about it.”

“Do you want to be one?” Harry asked her.

“Maybe. Depends on if I can find the time and get the authorisation further down the line.”

“What animal would you be?”

She paused in thought for a moment; a sweet, curious look crossing her face. “A rabbit. Or a fox. Some kind of woodland creature, I suppose.”

Conversation delved elsewhere afterwards. There was an upcoming Hogsmeade trip that Ron and Hermione were talking about in earnest; Violet was too, at first, until she saw the look on Harry’s face because he was unable to go. Ron convinced him to try and get McGonagall to sign his form to which Hermione was against. Violet stayed out of it and had her soup in silence.

As much as she adored the three of them as her friends, she really couldn’t stand the small squabbles they would end up in - all the squabbles being over something minor and ridiculous of course. She often wondered how Hermione had put up with at least two years worth of the boys’ outlandish ideas and somewhat silly attitudes, because the past month alone being close to them in lessons had been tiresome at times.

Interesting and funny, yes, and a great chance to know them better, but also tiresome.

When lunchtime was over the four of them headed down to the greenhouses for Herbology with Professor Sprout. Today, they were to be learning about Vampiric Vegetation, and how to defang it. Despite the use of thick gloves, many of the students left class later that afternoon with bitemarks and cuts on their hands and up their forearms.

The time grew closer to seven o’clock and with each passing second Violet grew more and more serious. This had definitely got to be the most strange detention she was ever going to experience, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Snape had been surprisingly easy on her considering she could have done some damage to Malfoy if the hot ladle had hit him in the face. Snape knew that too.

Her friends wished her luck as she headed down to the dungeons, where she knocked on the door of the Potions classroom and waited until Snape let her in.

“At least you have manners,” he remarked. “Come.”

He led her to the front bench where a cauldron sat simmering away. Next to that was his desk which he pointed at for Violet to sit. A stack of papers were there too.

“You’ll start with going through  _ those _ ,” he started, indicating the papers, “using the criteria I set out for you. When I request you pay attention to what I’m doing with the Wolfsbane, I expect you  _ to pay attention,  _ Miss Merryworth. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Aside from the fact Snape was chopping up and measuring out ingredients so the only loud sound was the knife hitting the board, they did not speak another word to each other for some time and were in complete silence.

Violet trawled through the first year essays on the Forgetfulness Potion for the next forty five minutes using the marking criteria that Snape had written out for her. All essays were out of ten points, and so far a majority of them had managed about six or seven marks. She wondered if Snape would just grade them harsher because he could.

After those initial forty five minutes, Snape immediately began talking about Wolfsbane without warning, so Violet nearly dropped her quill and scrambled for another piece of parchment so that she could scribble out a few notes. Oddly enough they were adding only one of the ingredients today to the cauldron: Snape turned off the heat after doing that and explained the next few steps that they would be covering over the next few days.

She handed back the few essays she had  _ thoroughly _ marked and Snape sent her off for the night. It was nearly nine o’clock by this point, and Violet hurried through the castle in fear of being caught by Filch but also because she was feeling absolutely drained and wanted to get to bed as soon as possible.

When reaching the Gryffindor Common Room, Violet slumped down on the sofa next to Harry and rested her head on his shoulder purely out of sheer tiredness. It was just him: Hermione was in the library and Ron had decided to take an early night.

“How was it?”

“As weird as I expected. That Wolfsbane potion is something else… why he would make it just to show his students I have no idea, unless he wants to show off…”

“Only thing he can do in the hopes people’ll like him,” Harry laughed. He then glanced down at Violet, saw how sleepy she was, and reached into his bag for a rolled up piece of parchment. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “It’s the homework Lupin set us earlier. Feel free to copy off me.”

She rubbed her eyes with one hand as she took it. “Why?”

“Did you start on any homework after Herbology?”

Violet groaned because she hadn’t and Harry grinned.

“So copy my Defence Against the Dark Arts homework and give your brain a break for once. You look tired.”

She sat up straight before pulling out her own parchment and quill, unrolling Harry’s homework after. She pulled the little table by the fireplace closer and copied out the homework there; well, she rewrote it in her own words, of course. It didn’t take long so ten minutes later Violet was back on the sofa except stretched out so that her head was next to Harry’s leg and her feet were propped up on the arm of the sofa.

“I’m tired because socialising on a daily basis is hard, and potions are complex,” she murmured, her eyelids fluttering closed. “I guess the rest of the week is going to be like this.”

Violet was right.

How she kept managing to pay rapt attention to Snape every evening and mark homework for him, she had no idea. Although she couldn’t deny that learning how to brew a potion as complex as Wolfsbane was interesting and got her more interested in potion making as a whole. If he had to go deal with misbehaving students after hours, he would leave Violet with the simmering cauldron to carefully go through the next step in the process. Thankfully she hadn’t messed it up.

Every night she would get back to the Common Room around nine or nine thirty and make a start on homework, or at least use some of Harry’s to make a start. It wasn’t exactly in her moral code to be doing that, but considering this was out of the norm for Violet - with being in detention and all - she allowed herself to make an exception.

On getting back those pieces of homework, Violet had managed to score better marks than Harry in all the subjects he offered her his work to.

That little fact would shock him for the rest of his life.


	8. Cousins and Cop Outs

Soon enough the first Hogsmeade visit rolled around on Halloween and the entire castle was in a hubbub of excitement, all except for perhaps Harry. Violet made an effort to not talk about the visit to the little village so much after him, well aware of the fact that he wished he could go but couldn’t despite his best efforts of trying to convince McGonagall to sign his form after Transfiguration a few days previous.

It didn’t feel nice having to leave one of her friends behind, but it unfortunately had to be done.

Violet took to wandering around Hogsmeade on her own, mostly because she wanted to fully absorb as much as possible without getting distracted by conversations to potentially listen in on, nor did she want to be dragged around shops and places she didn’t particularly want to go into.

She spent an awful lot of time in Honeydukes, picking out sweets for herself, for her parents, and a few for Harry (because she knew Ron and Hermione were going to come back with plenty of treats for him anyway). If anything she was shocked at how long she stayed in Honeydukes for, considering it was probably the most packed out of all the shops in Hogsmeade, save for perhaps Zonko’s joke shop.

Of course she ran into Fred and George Weasley, and Lee Jordan whilst perusing the joke shop. In fact, they practically jumped on her upon seeing her walk in.

“Ah, Merryworth! Wouldn’t expect to see you here,” said Fred.

“Do you secretly have a sense of humour that we don’t know about?” teased George.

Violet rolled her eyes and turned to them. “Just exploring,” she said plainly. “And yes, I do have a secret sense of humour that you don’t know about.”

“How do we know that’s true?”

She shrugged. “Ask Harry.”

“Oooh, so she’s talking again today,” came a drawling voice from one corner of the shop. The little group of four turned to see Malfoy and his cronies watching their interaction. They swaggered over and Violet’s heart sank; she really didn’t want him to ruin the day.

“I just don’t talk to you, Malfoy,” she replied flatly. “You’re not worth it.”

He scowled at her and looked like he was about to retort when somebody else stepped in.

“Now, now, Malfoy, play nicely,” Willmott also headed over to them. “Unless you want Merryworth to throw something at you again?” He turned to Violet. “Heard you got detention with Snape, little one.”

“Don’t call me that in front of people I like,” Violet sighed, her eyes flicking to her fellow Gryffindors, who weren’t entirely sure what was going on.

“What about ‘cousin?’”

Malfoy’s eyes widened and he cracked up laughing. “This guy is your cousin? Here I was thinking he just thought it’d be fun to tease you!”

“Somebody is going to punch you one day, Malfoy, and you’re going to hate every second of it,” she told him calmly. “Quite frankly I wish I had it in me to do that, but I’m not really the type. I prefer throwing inanimate objects at people who annoy me, as you are well aware.”

“Run along, Malfoy,” Willmott then told him when he saw the blonde boy was about to snap back. “I’ll take it from here.”

Shockingly, Malfoy and his friends did as the seventh year Slytherin asked. Fred, George, and Lee merely looked on in silence.

“I take it you’re not going to let him have the satisfaction of getting to me anymore?” Violet asked.

“It’s more fun when I can do it.”

“Great,” she muttered. “Can you save it for another day?”

Willmott seemed too nonplussed by the request. “Fine by me,” were his final words before stalking off out of the shop.

Violet turned to the Gryffindor boys. “Not a word. Please, not a word to anyone.”

Before they could say anything, she quickly ducked away to grab a couple of things to buy, and left too.

She headed back up to the castle after that, not wanting to chance running into the Slytherins again after that. Violet buttoned up her thick cardigan as the breeze picked up, and it made her walk faster to get back into the warmth. Despite it only being October, the weather couldn’t decide what it was doing; the morning had been cool and crisp, with the early afternoon heating up, and now mid afternoon it was beginning to get a little chilly.

Violet walked through the stone circle and through the bridge so that she could get back to the Clocktower Courtyard. Along the way, she was surprised to see Harry and Lupin finishing up a chat and she slowed down as she approached.

“Miss Merryworth,” Lupin said as she came to a stop next to the pair. “Did Hogsmeade not live up to your expectations?”

“Oh, it did, sir,” she said, grateful for the fact that Harry was facing her too and couldn’t see the mischievous glint that had entered Lupin’s eyes. “I, um… well, I looked everywhere I wanted to.” She began to fish around in her bag and pulled out Liquorice Wands and Exploding Bonbons, holding them out to Harry. “I got these for you while out there. Was going to give them to you later, but since you’re here...”

The boy seemed rather taken aback by the gesture but gratefully accepted the sweets. “Thanks, Violet.”

She then turned her attention back to Lupin. “I was wondering if I might speak with you privately, sir? It’s… class related.” She shifted uncomfortably, which made Harry’s brow knot ever so slightly.

Lupin nodded. “Of course. We can head to my office now, if you’d like?”

The three of them then headed back to the castle together, Harry and Violet lagging a little behind Lupin so that they could talk.

“Everything alright?” Harry whispered.

“Sort of. I just have a couple of questions,” she replied equally as hushed.

“You didn’t need to get me anything, by the way,” he then said, holding up the sweets.

“I wanted to. Don’t worry about it.”

They carried on walking behind Lupin in silence, and eventually parted ways in the Clocktower Courtyard.

Violet still walked a few paces behind the teacher as they made their way towards his office. Eventually, he broke the silence.

“That was kind of you to do that,” he muttered as they wandered down the third floor corridor.

“He’s kind to me,” she countered. “And he’s my friend.”

“Is there anything specific on your mind, Violet, or did you just want a chat?” Lupin changed the topic pretty swiftly as they entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and walked through to his office at the back of the room.

“There was something specific,” she said, shutting the door of the office behind her. Lupin shrugged off his cloak and settled down behind his desk, kicking out the other chair from under it for her. Violet sat down and dropped her bag on the floor, suddenly nervous to talk. “Um…”

“Take your time,” he said gently.

“I think I might take you up on your offer regarding Dexter and Willmott. Specifically Willmott.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Willmott tried it again in Hogsmeade. Malfoy was there as well, and he didn’t know Willmott and I were cousins until that moment…” she mumbled.

“I think Mr Malfoy will probably think twice after you threw that ladle at him in the class a few weeks back,” Lupin chuckled, causing Violet to turn red. “Professor Snape seemed quite pleased with the outcome of your rather strange detention.”

She looked at him curiously. “Right.”

“He wouldn’t admit it, but he  _ is _ impressed by your skill in the Potions classroom.”

Violet raised an eyebrow; not quite in disbelief considering Snape had offered her a similar remark a couple of weeks back, but more astonishment that the Potions Master would let slip something like that to another teacher. Let alone one that had the job he had so desperately craved for years.

“Which leads me to a few curiosities of my own… why Divination?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you take a subject that - according to Professor Trelawney - you have very little interest in, but still do relatively well in?”

She shrugged. “The other classes didn’t… well, okay. I was tempted by Ancient Runes, but I just felt it didn’t fit with things in the long run.”

He frowned. “In what sense?”

“I really like Potions and Charms, Professor,” Violet said. “Herbology and Transfiguration I’m good at, and Defence Against the Dark Arts I have to work a bit harder for, but… they’re the ones I need to focus on, really.”

“You’re interested in becoming a Healer?” Lupin asked her upon realising why she had such a preference for the core subjects as a whole.

Violet nodded. “Ancient Runes and Arithmancy didn’t really seem to fit well enough, I suppose, so I took a cop out subject.”

“Quite young to be thinking about what you’ll be doing once you’re out of school.”

“It doesn’t hurt to have a plan in place, Professor.” She was quiet, waiting for Lupin to say something but he didn’t disagree with her. “So… about Dexter and Willmott. How can you help?”

“I’m not sure, if you don’t want me to outright talk to them,” he admitted. “I’m sure something will present itself when the opportunity arises. Now, off you go and enjoy the remainder of your day. I’m sure Harry would appreciate a bit of company.”

“Right. Yes,” Violet said, picking up her bag and standing up. “Thanks.”

Lupin nodded and she took her leave.

Opening the door, she almost crashed right into Snape, who was carrying a goblet full of an odd smelling liquid that she vaguely recognised.

“Sorry, Professor!” she squeaked, and held the door open for him instead. The moment Snape was inside Lupin’s office, Violet started to walk away as fast as possible.

_ Strange…  _ she thought, wondering what Snape had brought to Lupin. She knew it was going to bug her - the familiarity of whatever was in that goblet, but for the time being she pushed it to the back of her mind as she wandered up to Gryffindor Tower.

Harry was sitting at one of the tables in the Common Room when she arrived, clearly stressing over a piece of homework.

“Transfiguration?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Give me a minute.”

She scurried up to her dormitory to switch her bag for the corresponding piece of homework before heading back down to join Harry. She sat across the table from him, and prompted him where necessary but asking him the right questions and encouraging him when he was on the right track with his answer.

Deep down, though, Violet knew she owed him one in terms of outright copying work, and after fifteen minutes she slid her homework over to him.

“Go on. It’ll make your life a bit easier for once. Make sure you reword it.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

They idly chatted away while Harry sorted out his Transfiguration homework, occasionally getting Violet to help with some kind of rewording and asking questions where he didn’t understand (because he knew he probably should). Then the conversation turned to Hogsmeade.

“How come you came back so early?” Harry said, handing back her homework after he had done the finishing touches on his. “You seemed a bit weird when Lupin asked you about it.”

Violet didn’t say anything for a moment, internally debating telling the truth. “A combination of Malfoy and Willmott. I wanted to avoid them. Now Fred, George, Lee,  _ and _ Malfoy know about my relation to Willmott, which is just… fantastic.”

“You know if any of the Slytherins try anything I’ve got your back, you know that right?”

She frowned. “Really?”

“Course. What are friends for?”

Violet made an odd stammering noise in place of a ‘thank you.’

An hour or so later Ron and Hermione were back from Hogsmeade, in a considerably better mood than Violet had been. They were far more eager to chat about their time in the village, and dumped extra sweets and goodies in front of Harry. He seemed to brighten up even further, and then of course was the Halloween feast.

Three years of Halloween feasts and Violet could not get over the floating pumpkins nor how decadent the feasts itself actually was. She’d yet to experience Christmas Day at Hogwarts, and she wondered if it was even possible to top Halloween here.

Feeling happy and full after that, they headed back up to the Common Room with the rest of their peers, only to come up to a blockage on the stairs in front of the portrait; that was when the mood turned sour.

Sirius Black had broken into the school and had tried to get past the Fat Lady, causing her to flee from her portrait to somewhere else in the castle.

All the students slept in the Great Hall that night while the teachers conducted thorough searches around the school, not that Violet found herself unable to sleep properly. She drifted in and out of strange dreams of wild wolves chasing her through the Forbidden Forest, right into the clutches of her cousins, over and over again until she decided it was better to lie there awake from five in the morning onwards.

She counted her lucky stars that it was now Sunday, and she didn’t have any lessons to potentially fall asleep in.


	9. Werewolves

It took about a few days for the hubbub of fear and excitement to boil down after the break in. In the meantime, Sir Cadogan’s portrait was put in place at the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, something of which did not appeal to any of the Gryffindor students themselves mostly because of the ridiculous passwords he came up with.

Oh, and the fact he liked to change the password every couple of days. Sometimes within a day if he got particularly bored. Or perhaps even twice a day if he wanted to mess with someone, which is exactly what he tried to do with Violet one evening when she was on her way back from the library.

“Scurvy cur,” she said on approaching the portrait.

“Ah, sweet maiden, you are  _ wrong. _ ” Sir Cadogan said, flashing his sword about as he liked to.

She shot him a strange look. “Oh come on… you can’t have changed it already!”

“Well, I have.”

Violet rolled her eyes, realising she would have to wait for someone to come out and let her in. Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long, as Percy was heading out to do his rounds.

“Violet!” he said upon seeing her. “I’ve just been informed the new password is ‘surreptitiousness versus meretriciousness.’”

“Thanks, Percy,” Violet murmured as she ran back inside before Cadogan could close the portrait hole and she’d have to repeat that god awful password.

She thought things couldn’t get any worse, until a Friday afternoon in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Their class had filtered in on time and were idly chatting, waiting for Lupin to come out of his office and get started; alas, he never did. Instead they were greeted with the main classroom door practically crashing open and Snape came billowing in.

With every few steps and a flick of his wand, he closed the shutters to the room and once he got to the front of the class he pulled down a projector.

“Turn to page three hundred and ninety four.”

It was not only a way to make an entrance, but a way to get the class to shut up.

Violet turned round to Harry and Ron at the desk behind her, who looked as equally as confused as she was. Either way, they started to flip to the aforementioned page as Snape made his way towards the back of the classroom where the projector was.

“Excuse me, sir, but where’s Professor Lupin?” Harry asked.

“I don’t believe that’s any of your concern, is it Potter? Suffice to say that your professor finds himself unable to teach at the present time. Turn to page three hundred and ninety four!” Snape was beginning to get impatient as he tapped the projector on with his wand.

“Werewolves…” Violet murmured as she got the aforementioned page. She glanced back at Snape who was looking at her rather smugly.

“But sir,” Hermione had appeared in the vacant seat next to Violet. “We’ve only just started on Red Caps and Hinkypunks. We’re not meant to start nocturnal beasts for weeks.”

“Quiet,” Snape warned her.

“Seriously? You just pop up out of thin air?” Violet hissed at Hermione as the girl unpacked her books and parchment.

“Miss Merryworth, since you - for once - seem to be in the mood for talking, perhaps you can explain the difference between an Animagus and a Werewolf?” he asked as he strode back to the front of the class.

She stared at him blankly. The way he was looking at her that intensely, it was like he was waiting for something other than an answer to his question. Slowly but surely, everything started to click together in her mind and she pursed her lips, her eyes beginning to glisten as question after question rattled through her mind. Could he… could he be doing this on purpose? Could he be doing this because he knew what she was frightened of? And aiding him making the Wolfsbane had not been sufficient punishment enough?

Then it clicked and her eyes widened. Suddenly she remembered why the goblet he had given Lupin had smelt familiar: she had spent a week with Snape making that exact Potion...

Apparently she’d been silent for long enough that Hermione had opted to give the answer.

“...Furthermore, he’ll only respond to the call of his own kind.”

Malfoy let out a rather irritating howl at that.

“Thank you, Mr Malfoy,” Snape said before turning his attention to Hermione. “That is the second time you’ve spoken out of turn, Miss Granger, are you incapable of restraining yourself or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all? Five points from Gryffindor.”

At this point, Violet raised her hand. Snape gave a curt nod.

“Say a Werewolf takes the Wolfsbane potion… the animal keeps the human mind, would that mean it could… be near other humans without attacking?”

The satisfied, sadistic smile he gave her, told her everything.

“Yes, Miss Merryworth, that could of course be the case.”

Heart pounding, Violet stood up and immediately walked out of class.

Her hands were trembling as she walked as fast as she could away from the classroom. He knew. He knew that when she was younger she’d been frightened by a Werewolf, and decided it would be funny to hand her a detention to make Wolfsbane because of the very fact he knew  _ exactly _ who actually was the Werewolf in question.

Everything was bouncing around in her mind at one hundred miles an hour, and she couldn’t get out of her own head.

“Violet!” she heard her name being called after her, but she didn’t stop walking. Her brain did start to slow down though. “Violet!”

She knew it was Hermione, and the other girl soon caught up with her and pulled her aside into an empty classroom. She had Violet’s books and bag, which she handed back.

“Snape said there was no point coming back,” Hermione told her as they both went to sit on the windowsill. “Are you alright?”

Violet gulped, feeling the tears brimming in her eyes. She furiously blinked them away and nodded. Hermione didn’t buy it, and gave her a rather pointed look.

“Werewolves frighten me,” Violet said lamely.

“Yes, I gathered that after the lesson with the Boggart... There’s something else though, isn’t there?”

After a moment or two, Violet nodded.

“I can’t say though,” she said, dropping her head into her hands.

“Is it to do with Professor Lupin?”

Violet said nothing.

“The detention with Snape?”

Violet still said nothing.

“Violet… Snape did all of this on purpose. He did your detention on purpose, and he did this lesson on purpose in the hopes that he could out Lupin,” Hermione then said carefully. At those words, she gingerly looked up at Hermione. “You know him, don’t you?”

Violet sat up straight and sniffed. “I wouldn’t say-”

“You wouldn’t sit anywhere near someone unless you actually knew them.” Hermione gave her a gentle smile. “I won’t say a word to anyone about this. He’s the uncle you’re not fond of, isn’t he?”

Well, there was no point trying to hide it from Hermione now; Violet nodded.

“It’s a weird situation, okay? I’m guessing Snape knows about it too, or at least guessed it. I - I wonder if my parents know that he’s a Werewolf.” She chewed on her lip for a moment. “If I explain why he’s…  _ close _ … I have to tell Harry as well. Not - not the Werewolf part, obviously, we’ll keep that between us, but there’s something else Harry knows, which in turn is something I guess I ought to tell you.”

Hermione was shaking her head. “Don’t feel like you have to-”

“No, I do. Ron as well. You’re all my friends, I shouldn’t keep secrets like this… I should trust you more, really...” Violet sat up straight once more, a guilty look on her face. She gulped, worried that Hermione might berate her for not trusting her and the boys fully, but it never came. Instead came a look of understanding with some underlying pity.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I have to speak to Lupin about this as well.”

“I really don’t think-”

“Hermione, he’s been friends with my parents for longer than I’ve been alive! I can’t - I can’t act like I don’t know, especially because of the detention Snape gave me!” Violet cried out. Her shoulders slumped after that. “That’s not fair on him if he doesn’t know about that.”

Hermione nodded and hopped off the windowsill. “Come on, let’s go back to the Common Room. The boys’ll meet us there when class is done.”

Violet slid off the windowsill and followed Hermione out of the room. They headed back up to the Common Room in silence; there was no need for words at this point. They cosied themselves in their favourite spots by the fireplace reading and not more than twenty minutes later did Harry and Ron make an appearance.

“That was bloody awful,” Ron huffed as he flopped down into the armchair. “We have to do two rolls of parchment on recognising Werewolves! By Monday! And Harry’s got Quidditch tomorrow!”

Harry had taken a seat next to Violet who had gone awfully tense as he did so. “I think that’s the least of my problems right now…” He shot a pointed look at Violet as if to indicate to Ron that they had a friend in need. “You alright, Violet?”

She shifted a little uncomfortably in her seat and glanced around the Common Room, just to make sure nobody else was listening in, and she closed her book.

“Yes, um - well, Snape was trying to get a rise out of me is all,” she started off, her gaze flicking to Hermione for a moment. “You know, what with knowing I’m scared of Werewolves after the Boggart lesson became the most talked about thing in school, the Wolfsbane potion, and this lesson… but I also need to come clean about something.”

Harry and Ron were looking expectantly at her.

“You know the uncle I’m not fond of?”

“It’s not Snape is it?” Ron groaned.

“No!” Violet was horrified at the thought of her greasy Potions professor being friends with her parents. “No, it’s-” she lowered her voice, “it’s Lupin.”

The boys’ jaws dropped.

“ _ What? _ ” Harry whispered. “How can you not like him though?”

“That leads onto my next point… Harry already knows this, but my mum’s side of the family isn’t great. My dad is Muggleborn as well - only child at that too - and let’s just say… My mum came from a family of blood purists, so her marrying a Muggleborn and then having me was probably the worst thing for them, meaning they wanted nothing to do with us.”

“Blimey,” Ron exclaimed quietly.

“My parents appointed him my uncle when I was really small - they all knew each other from Hogwarts. I guess… it just seemed unfair I still had no say in that… it’s hard for us to talk.”

“Why did you not tell us sooner?” Harry asked.

Violet shrank back. “It’s not like I’ve had friends before is it? I didn’t want to… I didn’t want you all to think I was weird,” she mumbled, beginning to fiddle with the end of her long ponytail.

“You know… he seems like a good person to have around,” Hermione pointed out. “You should give him a chance. None of us think you’re weird.”

“Definitely not,” Harry agreed, Ron nodding as well. “Hermione’s right. He’s not a bad guy, and he’s your teacher now, so…”

“So try and see eye to eye with him a little more. It won’t be easy, but-”

Violet groaned. “You sound like my parents now, the pair of you! They’ve been trying this sort of talk with me since  _ I _ could talk. It won’t work. Can you guys just… be my friends? Leave me to work this out for myself? I trust you enough to tell you this, please, I don’t need a repeat of conversations I have with mum and dad.”

That got them to shut up, and Violet looked guilty for it.

“Sorry, I - I didn’t mean to snap like that. Sensitive topic.” She picked up her bag and stood up. “I’m going to head to the library before dinner. I’ll see you guys there.”

Feeling awkward, Violet took a swift leave from the Gryffindor Common Room, power walking down to the library. Along the way, her mind became a swirling mess yet again; how could Lupin have not said anything? Her parents? Why did everyone insist on telling her what to do or how to act? It didn’t matter that she was thirteen, she didn’t want to be told how she should act towards someone that she felt was forced into her life.

Friendships were difficult too - more difficult than she anticipated, in fact. Violet absolutely adored Harry, she got on extremely well with Hermione, and Ron was sweet but someone she found harder to talk to for reasons unknown. Everyday she spent with them was another day of her worrying that she was going to say or do something stupid. She was afraid of losing the only friends she had ever had throughout her life, and she’d only been in their group for about two months now.

The desire to be included was prevalent at the forefront of her mind now, always. As Violet wandered to her usual corner tucked away at the back of the library, she realised that regardless of how much they spoke to her now or how much they brought her into their activities, she still somehow felt like a spectator, only she was stuck outside the show and peering in through the window. On the flip side of things whenever she tried to be more trusting of them, she felt like an animal in a zoo being watched and scrutinised, with her spectators waiting for her to do something more interesting.

She hadn’t realised it but Violet was crying quietly; warm tears stinging her eyes and bubbling over to drip down her now flushed cheeks. Almost angrily she wiped them away, annoyed with herself for getting so worked up over the events of the past afternoon. She set about to do her homework with a bit too much force, spilling her ink all over her fresh parchment and that just about tipped her too far. It didn’t matter that she could easily get out her wand and clean the mess with a simple spell, Violet despairingly laid her head in her arms on the desk and cried harder, her sobs muffled by her robes.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve even seen Hermione get this stressed over homework,” said a gentle voice above her. Violet peered up from the desk to see that Harry had followed her. She dipped her head back onto her arms stubbornly, and she heard him slide into the chair next to her.

A moment later, a hand - his hand - was comfortingly rubbing her shoulder. Violet tensed up, not expecting the action and he stopped, opting to give it a gentle squeeze instead before dropping his hand from her.

Slowly but surely, Violet sat up straight again. She went to rub her eyes but took one look at the fact her fingers were now covered with ink and opted not to.

“I guess this afternoon has been a bit much?” Harry then offered, his eyes roaming over the ink on the table, then watching as Violet used her robes to get most of the wet ink off of her hands so that they were merely stained.

“Yep,” she replied quietly, refusing to look at him. “And I’m - I’m not built for friends. I know I’ve said it before, but I’ve really not had friends before and - and I can’t - I can’t figure out how to do it. It’s hard, Harry.”

“And it won’t get any easier if you run off whenever you’re upset,” he pointed out to her. Finally, Violet looked up at him, almost ashamed. “Don’t - don’t  _ hide _ from us. Sure, if you wanna be alone with your thoughts then go for it but don’t worry about crying in front of us. I told you before - I’ve got your back, and I’m sure Ron and Hermione do as well. You knowing Lupin outside of school doesn’t change anything either.”

“Really?” Violet asked him, her eyes big and hopeful.

“Really,” Harry reaffirmed. “Please don’t run away from us when you’re upset? Otherwise I’m going to have to actually start coming to the library properly.”

When Violet let out a small giggle, he grinned at her.

“And,” he carried on, “to you the truth, I think it’s always me that’ll come get you when you’re upset.  _ Everyone’s _ noticed how you talk more to me.”

She tried not to get flustered at that. “Well - I mean - you were the first person I spoke to on the Hogwarts Express that time… even if it was about two words. I guess that meant something to me without even realising…”

“Good. You’re stuck with me now, Merryworth.”

Silence.

“Maybe don’t refer to me by my surname again?” Violet was smiling brightly at him now, all thoughts of the afternoon forgotten.

“Yeah…” Harry scratched the back of his head bashfully. “Probably for the best.”


	10. Quidditch, 3rd Year: Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff

Quidditch was not really Violet’s thing.

Well, maybe it could be something she was more interested in, but considering the fact she had never been brilliant at riding a broomstick she had allowed it to fall to the bottom of her list of things to think about. It started when she was about eight.

Thomas Merryworth - her Muggleborn father - had been an excellent Chaser during his time at Hogwarts. He’d helped Ravenclaw win their fair share of matches, and it was one of the many reasons that Genevive had fallen for him in the first place. Most girls at Hogwarts liked a good Quidditch player; it didn’t matter that he was a couple of years older than her.

Obviously with that in mind, Thomas had high hopes that his one and only daughter would take after him in more than just his stubborn yet quiet personality. He tried his very best to get her on a broomstick and zooming around a clearing in the woods at the bottom of their garden - but to no avail. Violet couldn’t quite balance well enough on the broom, let alone think about throwing a ball.

Every summer since then until she went to Hogwarts, Thomas still tried. Violet was too keen to make her father happy so she kept doing it and trying her best until Genevive gently but firmly put a stop to it. She could tell her daughter wasn’t enjoying riding a broom, and Thomas relented.

When they had their flying lessons in first year, Violet was surprised she was able to get the broom into her hand after a few attempts of saying ‘up.’ Thomas was of course incredibly proud of her because even though it wasn’t instant, she still did better than plenty of her other classmates.

In her second year, he had tried to persuade her to try out for the Quidditch team (maybe she would have been a good Chaser) and Violet had told him she would consider it. Alas, she didn’t end up going to try outs. She didn’t want to get involved in Quidditch on such a deep level. She barely went to any of the matches; it didn’t matter if Gryffindor played or not, she wanted to distance herself from the sport in any way she could.

Except now that she was friends with Harry… she felt obligated to actually go and support him in the Quidditch matches. The fact that she showed up to breakfast on time for a Quidditch match was shocking to most Gryffindors, but it was Ron that figured out the reason behind it first.

“Someone likes you, Harry…” he murmured with a smirk as Violet sat down next to Hermione opposite the boys. She bit the inside of her cheek and refused to say anything, deciding to help herself to some toast instead. She caught the nudge that Harry gave Ron, causing the redhead to drop the smirk entirely.

After Violet finished a mouthful of toast, she finally spoke. “It’s important to support friends.” It was a simple response to what Ron said, and it made Harry smile at her.

“I hope you’ll be alright today,” Hermione addressed Harry. “The weather is just  _ awful. _ ”

Naturally the first Quidditch match that Violet decided to attend had to be the one that was going to take place in a thunderstorm. It couldn’t be helped, but it definitely put a damper on things. Either way, she was prepped with her raincoat and an umbrella along with the rest of the school.

Soon enough, everyone started to head down to the Quidditch pitch in the abhorrent wind and rain. Violet was beginning to have second thoughts about coming along to  _ this _ game in particular, and Hermione could see it all over her face.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine -  _ Harry’ll _ be fine,” Hermione said.

Violet thanked her lucky stars that the wind was biting cold, otherwise she knew for a fact if it had been warmer her cheeks would have had a bit more heat come to them.

The match was eventful, to say the least, and also relatively difficult to watch because somehow the storm had gotten a lot worse. Everyone was drenched within five minutes, and the players were a mixture of red and yellow blurs. Gryffindor seemed to be in the lead against Hufflepuff for a majority of the game.

A flash of gold zipped past the Gryffindor stands, followed up by what Violet assumed to be Harry and then the Hufflepuff seeker not close behind. They disappeared high up into the clouds and that was the last anybody in the stands saw of them for a while.

Then a strange, cold feeling swept over the stadium. Violet’s heart stopped for a second when she realised that meant. Not more than two minutes later, there was a figure falling high from the sky. A red blur, that had previously gone to fly up in the clouds. Harry. There was nobody else it could have been.

His descent was slowed, somehow, as he got dangerously close to hitting the ground.

Somebody then grabbed hold of Violet’s arm and it turned her attention away from the match. Hermione. She was shaking; Violet was too, and she only just realised it. They both began to get pulled towards the exit of the stands and back up to the castle by Ron; they were behind Harry who was on a floating stretcher, and Dumbledore who seemed to have cast it.

The sight of it made Violet break away from her friends when they reached the castle.

“Tell him I’ll visit later, okay?” she asked Hermione quietly, before making a quick getaway to the disused girls’ bathroom on the second floor.

It was quiet in here, and she knew she wouldn’t be disturbed by anybody else because of Moaning Myrtle. She caught a glimpse of the ghost in the mirror, but it quickly went away upon seeing how shaken and pale Violet was.

God, she was  _ pale? _ Had the sight of Harry falling really gotten to her that badly? It made sense, it was a terrifying drop after all, but logically she should have known that someone was going to stop the fall, right? That’s what she kept telling herself, perhaps to ignore the fact he could have died if his fall hadn’t been stopped.

Her knuckles had turned white from gripping the sink in front of her so tightly.  _ Bloody Quidditch…  _ she thought to herself.  _ Bloody Dementors too… _

For a first Quidditch match, it had been quite the watch and she sincerely hoped that if she did manage to convince herself to attend one again, it wouldn’t be so… graphic, for want of a better word. Violet knew it was just a fluke - this would never have usually happened - but it was still god damn terrifying to witness.

She splashed a bit of cold water on her face and then made her way back up to her dormitory so that she could dry off, calm down, and then go to see Harry. It took about an hour or so before she felt completely normal again, and that was when the Quidditch team returned to the Common Room, followed up by Ron and Hermione about half an hour after that.

“We’ll be back down to the Hospital Wing in a bit,” Ron said. “Go see him, we wanna dry off.”

Violet had never hurried somewhere faster. By the time she got there, Harry was in pyjamas and a dressing gown, being fussed over by Madame Pomfrey. The moment she caught sight of Violet, she didn’t look best pleased.

“ _ Really _ now, the boy needs  _ rest- _ ” she tried to protest, but Harry cut across her.

“No - it’s fine, please? Violet doesn’t talk much.”

Madame Pomfrey looked between the two of them and left in a huff. Violet pulled up a chair next to Harry’s bed, and he looked in better spirits now that she was there.

“What took you so long?” he joked.

Her shoulder squirmed, and she looked down at her feet. “Wouldn’t have been much use to you if I didn’t take a minute to get calm, would I? Plus, it seemed like you were well tended to.”

“Yeah, I guess…”

Suddenly he was in her view. Harry was lying on his back so that he could stick his head off the edge of the bed and look Violet directly in the eyes.

“Bit hard to have a conversation down here, you know,” he commented with a raised eyebrow. Violet rolled her eyes and sat up normally and so did Harry.

“Dementors?” Violet muttered.

“Yep. I heard my mum screaming again. And…” He gestured towards a wrapped up bundle at the end of his bed. Her head tilted to the side ever so slightly, Violet unwrapped a section of it to see a lot of broken wood. “My Nimbus Two Thousand. It flew straight into the Whomping Willow after I fell. Hufflepuff won - but Cedric wanted a rematch. Said it wasn’t fair because he hadn’t realised I’d fallen.”

Violet covered it back up.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’m guessing there’s nothing to be done about the broom?”

He shook his head.

“And no rematch?”

He shook his head once more. Violet sank back in her seat, feeling dejected for her friend. She almost reached out to take his hand but thought better of it; instead she made an odd flinching motion that didn’t go unnoticed by Harry.

“Ron and Hermione are coming back soon,” she said, abruptly changing the subject. “They’re just drying off.”

“Yeah! They said. You’ll stay, right?”

Violet nodded. “Of course.”

His lips twitched upwards for a moment. “Thanks.”

They fell into silence; one that normally would be filled with the scratching of quills and the occasional muttering of answers to each other, but there was no homework to be done today. No, this silence bordered on awkward and tried so hard to stray away from that into one of comfort. How they always ended up alone together in less than ideal situations like this - when one of them was hurt - they wouldn’t know.

Except the mutual thought appeared to read on each other’s faces and it made the silence between them companionable. Gingerly, Violet reached out and actually took Harry’s hand this time, giving it a gentle squeeze. Her hand remained there for a moment, but she quickly whipped it away when she heard the footsteps and voices of Hermione and Ron approaching.

The rest of the afternoon passed by relatively quickly after that. The four friends stayed chatting about meaningless things to take Harry’s mind off of what had happened in the morning. They only left Harry when it was bedtime.

As they were leaving, Violet looked back at Harry, a quizzical look on her face; the flowers in the vase on his bedside table weren’t exactly in the best condition and an interesting idea struck her. The boy had rolled onto his side and was facing away from her, so she crept back over for a moment. With a whisper of a spell she had learnt from her mother and a flourish of her wand, she made the flowers more welcoming before running off to catch up with Hermione and Ron.

Unbeknownst to her, Harry had fitful nightmares while sleeping, but waking up to see a vase full of violets gave him some sort of comfort.

The next night after a full day of visitors bringing him gifts and get well soon cards, Hermione, Ron, and Violet were getting ready to leave when Harry called the latter girl back.

“Was that you?” he asked her, pointing to the violets.

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I’m not… they’re violets, aren’t they?”

She nodded. “Yes, they are.”

“Why?”

“So you could have a friend with you throughout the night, I suppose.”

She turned away to make her exit; Hermione and Ron were waiting for her at the door of the Hospital Wing.

“Violet?” Harry called out as she started to walk away. She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!! Hope you're enjoying this so far. I'm quite excited to develop the Harry/Violet friendship (and eventual relationship), but also I do like dropping little romantic hints like the one at the end of this chapter... not that they're even aware it could even be romantic. They just think it's oddly friendly. Anyway, thanks for all the bookmarks/kudos/comments so far! OL x


	11. Puzzle Pieces

After Lupin’s first lesson back - in which he said that the essays on Werewolves were completely unnecessary - Violet lingered after class. Hermione did her best to get the girl to come to lunch, but she wasn’t having it.

Violet made her way to the front of the classroom where Lupin was tidying his desk. He took one look at her stony expression, then at the students still filtering out of the room.

“How can I help, Miss Merryworth?” he asked with a smile on his face. She couldn’t help but notice how weary and pale he was; not even a gentle smile could cover that up.

“I had a few questions in regards to Professor Snape’s lesson last week,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder to see the last dregs of her classmates leave.

The minute the door clicked shut, her eyes filled with a quiet rage and upset the next time she looked at Lupin.

“Was it you?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Hmm?” The smile had dropped from his face.

“When I was eight. The night the wolf came to say hello - was it you?”

He sighed, and came round to perch on the front of his desk next to Violet, patting the space next to him. She shook her head and took a step back, ignoring the flicker of hurt across his face.

“It was. Wolfsbane is a powerful Potion. It means I keep my own mind - I’m sure you already knew that.”

Violet nodded, wiping away a tear that had dropped down her cheek.

“If your parents thought I would  _ ever _ be a danger to you, they wouldn’t have stayed friends,” he carried on. “I didn’t want to scare you that night, and I’m sorry that I did.”

“Why? Why would you…” she trailed off, struggling to find the words to finish off the question in a way that wasn’t particularly hurtful.

There was a restraint in the way he looked at her; a pleading behind his eyes as if there was something much more he wanted to say but was uncertain if now was the time. As if he so desperately wanted to reach out and comfort her, but knew that she would only recoil away from him right now.

“Listen… I need to speak to Harry, and I expect he and your other friends are waiting for you. We’ll go for a walk at lunch before your next lesson and talk about this more, alright? Go eat.”

Nodding, Violet hastily rubbed her eyes in a sordid attempt to hide the fact she’d been upset as she wandered out of the classroom to see that her friends were indeed waiting for her. She glanced at Harry.

“He wants to talk to you,” she mumbled, before leaning against the wall and staring down at her feet. She could feel Hermione staring very intently at her and did her best to ignore it. Thankfully, neither of them asked what had gone on in the classroom, nor why Violet had gone extremely quiet.

A few minutes later, Harry came back out clearly in better spirits than Violet was. “After Christmas he’s going to teach me how to fight Dementors!”

“Oh, that’s  _ brilliant _ , Harry!” Hermione was beaming at him as the foursome finally made their way down to the Great Hall for lunch.

While the other three dissolved into nattering about exactly how Harry would be fighting off Dementors, Violet delved deep into her thoughts and worries about what Lupin was going to say to her on their walk. Their already complex relationship was only becoming more and more so, but she realised she was inadvertently taking Hermione’s advice by trying to see eye to eye with him.

Her own mind ate away at her during lunch to the point she found it difficult to eat. Eventually, Hermione relented and asked her what was wrong.

“Violet, are you alright?”

“I’m taking a walk with Lupin this lunch… We’re uhh… having a chat, I suppose,” she replied, unenthused. Realising there was no point in just picking at her food, Violet pushed her plate away. “I should probably go, actually.”

More of a bundle of nerves than she had been before, Violet headed to the Entrance Hall with her things and waited for a few minutes before Lupin arrived. They walked in silence as they headed out onto the grounds; it was quite chilly out, and Violet pulled her scarf out of her bag and wrapped it around her neck as they headed towards the boathouse.

Lupin didn’t start talking until they got to their destination.

“Perhaps it was wrong of me to do that,” he started off, staring out across the lake. “How well do you remember that night?”

“I barely remember it, if I’m honest,” Violet said from a few metres behind him. She had taken to leaning with her back against the wall of the boathouse, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. “I used to have nightmares for weeks after and then they stopped. But why?”

“Because you were alone that night, wandering in the woods behind your house. You had a tendency to do that a lot.”

“Yes, and then I stopped thanks to you,” Violet told him darkly. “That was my solace away from the house where I could explore and - and pretend I had friends. You took that away from me because what? You didn’t want me to be alone one night?”

“We were all worried,” Lupin sighed and turned to face her. “You act like you chose not to have friends at the Muggle school you went to before Hogwarts but you telling me right now you used to pretend to have friends? That suggests something else going through that head of yours.”

“You know the Muggle book  _ Matilda _ ?” Violet asked. When Lupin nodded, she carried on. “Well… picture me at a Muggle school, only with a lack of control over my magic. Like  _ any _ witch or wizard before they go to Hogwarts. Everyone thought I was weird and alienated me. Instead I told mum and dad that I preferred to be on my own - there was some truth to that, I guess, considering how my first two years at Hogwarts went, but… having friends now is lovely.”

He looked at her with such pity that she rolled her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter now,” she then told him, coming to stand next to him. “You picked the wrong day to see if I was fine. It was a discreet way of doing it, while as a tame Werewolf, wasn’t it?”

“I’m sorry, Violet, truly,” he was pleading with her now and she knew it. “I wouldn’t put you through that again, you know that right?”

She stared up at him with scrutiny. “How am I supposed to trust that? How am I supposed to trust  _ you _ ?”

Lupin raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be stubborn, I could have brushed this under the rug were it not for the fact I would like us to get along considering I’m your teacher this year. That’s why you can trust what I’m saying, sweet girl.”

“Don’t-”

“This isn’t the time. We know each other’s secrets now. You know of my affliction, and I know of your loneliness,” his voice had gone soft again, which made Violet simmer down from whatever stubborn response she had been going to give. “I would never intentionally hurt you.”

She nodded. “Just so you know… that detention I served with Snape - it was to make Wolfsbane. That and the lesson on Werewolves - I think he was trying to upset me, after finding out what my Boggart was.”

Lupin did not look impressed in the slightest. “He shouldn’t have done that.”

“He likes to bully students that aren’t Slytherins, so you shouldn’t be so surprised.” She paused thoughtfully for a moment. “And… I should probably let you know that I had to tell Harry, Ron, and Hermione about knowing you. They’re my friends, and I need to learn to trust them. It wouldn’t be fair on them if I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“No - don’t apologise, it’s quite understandable. It’s good, actually, that you’re trying to trust them. I heard you went to watch your first Quidditch game over the weekend?”

“Yes, and it didn’t go exactly as planned…”

Lupin let out a light laugh, his attention now on a few Flying Seahorses that had decided to make their presence known outside of the lake. They flew quite high up into the air before descending back down into the murky depths. “Of course. Do you think you’ll go again?”

She shrugged. “Maybe when Ha- Gryffindor plays. I’ll go to Gryffindor’s next match,” she managed to smoothly cover her words there, but the slip of the tongue didn’t go unmissed by Lupin. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“When Harry plays again?” he offered. “I thought you would have been closer to Hermione…”

“Me and Harry have more of an established rapport…” Violet explained. “Since first year, we’ve been quietly helping each other with homework and it’s… made it easier for me to talk to him over Hermione and Ron. Is that weird?”

He shook his head, smiling fondly down at Violet, who was now watching another set of Flying Seahorses make their way into the air.

“Not in the slightest, sweet girl,” he told her. “You connect with who you feel most comfortable around with first, and go from there. It doesn’t come as a shock to me in the slightest that you should pick Harry as a friend. We - being your mother and I - were in the same school year as his parents after all.”

“You knew James and Lily Potter?” Violet tilted her head to the side in curiosity.

Lupin nodded. “James Potter was one of my closest friends. Genevive didn’t really take any particular interest in being friends with him until he grew up around seventh year… Even then, she wasn’t close to him. I believe I remained her one true Gryffindor friend.”

“How did that happen? If she was a Ravenclaw?”

He smiled wryly down at Violet. “An empty spot next to me during our first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Perhaps the full story is best saved for another day…”

“Why? It’d - It’d be nice to hear it now, while we’re both here.” She was eager to hear, and it warmed Lupin to his core. He thought she would have stopped engaging in conversation by now, but the mutual trust that was properly starting to form between them was clearly driving her down a different path.

“A different time, Violet,” he said gently. “You have afternoon lessons to get to, and I’m sure your friends are awaiting your return. Let’s go.”

They started making their way back up towards the Entrance Hall in silence at first, until Violet very tentatively spoke up again.

“Um… if I ever find myself needing an adult and I don’t want to wait for my parents’ owl… is it alright if I come and talk to you?”

“Of course. I’m sure they’d be pleased about the fact you’re willing to talk to me, now,” Lupin chuckled. Violet didn’t respond to that, but merely nodded in acknowledgement. It signalled that this was still a touchy topic and not to pursue it further, so they carried on back to the Entrance Hall without uttering another word to one another.

As they ended up back in the castle, Violet’s friends were making their way out of the Great Hall. The moment she saw them, she immediately ran up to them before throwing an apologetic wave goodbye over her shoulder to Lupin, and he slowed to a stop.

It didn’t matter to him whether she said goodbye or not; all that mattered to him was that she was happy and comfortable with where she was and who she was. It may have still deeply hurt him that for years she would refuse to talk to him and would only interact with him via books, but he could hardly be a hypocrite against his own advice to her now, could he? It would come with time, her actually accepting him as family - even if he wasn’t blood, and that was what she wanted.

As Lupin watched his niece wander off to her next lesson with her friends, he noticed how she seemed to carry herself more lightly than at the start of the lunch. It made him wonder if perhaps, still, he was the weight the world on her shoulders she desperately wished to shed herself of.

A pang went through his heart. Perhaps one day it wouldn’t matter to Violet, when she was older and not so afraid of stepping outside her comfort zone. One day she would see him differently to how she had done for her entire life; what Lupin didn’t realise is that day was going to be sooner than he thought.

She disappeared from view, and a sad smile ghosted his face for a moment: to be a part of her life rather than watch from the sidelines would make  _ him _ feel like he was part of a family again. It would be the final piece in that puzzle that Thomas and Genevive had desperately tried to solve for him twelve years ago after the loss of his best friends.


	12. Carpe Retractum

Winter came to Hogwarts suddenly, but quietly.

On the first Saturday of December, Violet was the first one awake in the girls dormitory. There was a strange brightness that filtered in through the window, and when she pulled back the curtain she was greeted with a soft blanket of snow dusted across the Hogwarts grounds. Even now at eight o’clock, there were still flakes drifting down lazily and gently. Her lips twitched into a small smile: for once she had friends to actually enjoy the snow with, rather than go on lonesome walks on the grounds as she had done for the past two years.

At breakfast, Violet was more animated than usual and the boys agreed to a snowball fight with her and Hermione; unfortunately it seemed the other girl was rather snowed under with school work, but said she might join them before lunch, depending. Either way; they were all chatting excitedly about having a bit of fun this weekend. It was odd for both Harry and Hermione to see Violet being so open and chatty with Ron; the redhead was keen to get his older twin brothers and Lee in on the upcoming snowball fight, and invited them to join the conversation of how they were planning to split into teams and the like.

Harry was more quiet for once during conversation, instead unintentionally watching Violet be so animated with people that weren’t him. He wondered where her sudden excitement had come from and resolved to ask her about it at a later time.

“Staring is rude, you know…” Hermione muttered to him, barely glancing up from the copy of the  _ Daily Prophet _ she was reading. Harry appeared to jolt back to reality to see that his friend was trying to hide a smirk from behind her newspaper.

“Shut up…” he murmured in response. “It’s… nice. Actually seeing her talk.”

“I agree, just… don’t be so obvious.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Nevermind,” Hermione said quickly, getting back to the paper. “I’ll see you all later.”

The group of boys and Violet left the table before Hermione did, heading back up to the Gryffindor Tower so that they could get into the appropriate winter gear. They all met back in the Common Room where Hermione had now settled with her stacks of books and several rolls of parchment. She waved at them quickly when they set off.

They had a three aside snowball fight: Harry, Ron, and Violet on one team together, with Fred, George, and Lee on another. They were, of course, not the only students taking advantage of the snow at this time. Regardless of that, they managed to find a spot on the grounds where they wouldn’t be disturbed by anybody else. Every now and then, they would switch up the teams so that everyone had a chance to spend time with each other in battle.

What was most shocking was seeing Violet be loud. Not loud in the sense of random, irritating noise, but in the sense that she was having a good time and expressing that. She was positively beaming throughout the snowball fight, giggling endlessly and having a riot. It only stopped for a moment when Fred managed to pelt her directly in the face with a snowball, causing her to lose balance on the wall she had built with George and Harry.

Her braid fell out of her beanie hat as she tipped backwards to the ground. Immediately the boys all rushed over to her to find her lying there dazed with her face dusted in snow, her cheeks and tip of her nose red raw, but still a smile on her face.

“Jesus, Violet, I’m  _ really _ sorry-” Fred began to say before she cut across him.

“No, it’s fine! Really…” she sat up and reached for her beanie hat next to her, pulling it back on and tucking her long hair back into it. “I’m completely fine!” she was laughing again. “That was fun. The snow works well as a landing pad, I have to say.”

“Maybe we should take a break,” Harry suggested, holding out his hand for Violet to take so he could help her up. “Or head back in before somebody else knocks Violet over.”

“It’s about lunchtime anyway,” Ron said. “Let’s go.”

The rest of them murmured in agreement and started to make their way back up to the castle. Violet elected to let go of Harry’s hand and link her elbow with his. The wind had picked up, so being joined together like that meant for extra warmth.

“You’re in a really good mood today,” Harry remarked, also grateful that she had looped her arm through his. His face was beginning to get a little numb from the biting cold, so any extra warmth was welcome.

“I do love winter,” Violet mused. “But also I’ve never had friends to enjoy it with. That was my first snowball fight with people that weren’t my parents.”

The pair of them were lagging behind the rest of the group, so their conversation remained private for the most part.

“I wish I’d known you sooner,” Harry replied. “Could have brought you along with these lot a bit more.”

She waved it off. “Stop worrying about the past so much, Harry. It’s fine. Really. Today was a lot of fun! And… well, okay, maybe it meant something to me. More than you’d think.”

“Why always on your own, though?”

“It was just easier,” she said softly. Something about her voice in that moment made Harry squeeze her just that bit closer to him as they crossed the Stone Circle to get under the covered bridge. The others were waiting for them there, and the pair still held onto each other while they walked back into the castle.

They’d arrived just as lunch was beginning; the six of them grateful to come back to warm soup and bread after their stint in the snow. Violet retreated back into her much quieter, usual self, the euphoria of the morning slowly wearing off as the tiredness began to set in. Her eyes wandered to watching Professor Flitwick levitating baubles and other decorations to go sit on the giant Christmas tree at one end of the Great Hall, all the while keeping an ear on what her friends were talking about.

Mostly it switched between homework, Christmas related chatter, the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, and of course Sirius Black. She smiled to herself as she carried on eating her soup; it was always fun to listen in. It was a shame that Hermione wasn’t there, then it would have really completed it for her. As introverted as she might be, it was lovely to be a part of a group for once.

“What are you up to this afternoon?” Harry asked Violet, bringing her out of her thoughts.

“Um, I was probably going to tackle that homework from Lupin…”

He grinned at her. “Wanna do it together?”

She was a bit taken aback by the offer:  _ Harry, offering to do homework with her? _

“Sure. Maybe we could use one of the empty classrooms and practice the Knockback Jinx a bit. You know… for Red Caps.”

“Sounds good. Let’s go,” Harry then said, getting up, Violet following shortly after. Ron and the others watched them oddly as they said their goodbyes.

“We’ll dry off a bit first, yes?” Violet said as they made their way onto the Grand Staircase. At that moment she realised she was still wearing her beanie hat so pulled it off and shoved it into one of her pockets. Without really thinking about it either, she then removed the tie from her hair and shook it out of the plait it was in, running her fingers through it so that it didn’t get too knotted either.

“D’you reckon we could just use Lupin’s classroom?” he asked.

Violet shrugged. “Probably. It’s an empty classroom, isn’t it?”

“With his office attached,” Harry then pointed out.

“With his office attached…” Violet repeated. “I suppose if someone tried to get us in trouble for a bit of harmless jinxing for homework, he’d step in.”

“Exactly.”

Within about half an hour they had dried off in their dormitories, grabbed their homework and wands, and were setting up shop in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Violet was levitating desks out the way to clear a bit of space, while Harry sat on the windowsill reading through Violet’s notes with a frown on his face.

“What’s this spell?”

“Hmm?” she glanced back over her shoulder at him as she lowered one of the tables. A nice, sizeable gap had been cleared out in the middle of the classroom for them to practice.

“ _ Carpe Retractum? _ ”

“Oh!” Violet skipped over to him. “ _ So _ , I was doing a bit of reading last night in the library - some Red Caps carry shields and the best way to grab the shield is using that spell. Want to try?”

“With what? We don’t have shields?” Harry said, hopping down from the windowsill, placing Violet’s notes back there instead.

“I’m sure Lupin won’t mind us borrowing something in here…” Violet scrutinised the room - Harry following her gaze - before settling on-

“He… actually has a shield.” Harry was dumbstruck by that fact, but his friend seemed entirely unphased by it as she went to pick the object up and hand it to him. It was a plain, round metal thing that wasn’t too heavy, and Harry was able to easily loop it on his arm. Violet watched him with a raised eyebrow as he shifted his weight about, clearly trying to get comfy with it and  _ clearly _ enjoying it.

He seemed pretty satisfied when finally comfortable and took up a fighting stance, holding the shield out in front of him as an easy target for Violet to show him how the spell worked. She crossed the room and held her wand out in front of her. There was some apprehension on her face before she cast the spell.

“What’s up?” Harry asked her.

“I’m worried about hurting you? It’s  _ really _ going to yank it off your arm.”

He shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Just show me how it works.”

She gave him one curt nod. “ _ Carpe Retractum! _ ” 

A stringy orange light erupted from Violet’s wand and latched itself onto the front of the shield. Harry stumbled forward for a second as it automatically tried to pull the shield off his arm, and opted to fight back. Violet gritted her teeth and gripped her wand with both hands as she started to slide forward along the floor against her own volition because of Harry pulling back.

Except, he started to come towards her as well. The spell had a mind of its own, and Violet’s eyes widened when she realised what was happening.

“Oh no. We’re both movable objects!”

“So?”

“So… give it a few more seconds and we’ll crash! Stop - fighting - it!”

There was only about a five foot gap between them now, so Harry did as Violet said and held his arm at an angle that would allow her to pull the shield directly off of it without hurting him. The only unfortunate thing was that the shield had flung up into the air above them and was now hurtling down.

The teens grabbed onto each other in an attempt to push each other out of the way - which worked, thankfully, as about two seconds after they stepped back a few paces, the shield came crashing to the ground. Terrified, Harry and Violet didn’t even let go at each other as they stared at the shield that was no rattling about on the floor until it came to a complete stop.

“I must say, I’m rather impressed by your dedication,” Lupin muttered from above them.

They jumped and let go of each other as they turned to see their teacher walking down the steps from his office into the classroom, an amused look on his face and his hands shoved in his pockets. He came to lean on his front desk.

“I was going to be teaching this on Monday, but it seems someone already did some extra reading for their homework…”

Violet immediately flushed and looked down at her feet, causing Lupin to chuckle.

“It’s not a bad thing, Violet,” he said gently. “Although perhaps don’t destroy my classroom in the process.”

“My idea - sort of,” Harry admitted awkwardly. “We were going to practice jinxes but um… I saw the spell… and, well, you can guess the rest, sir.”

“I believe I can, Harry, yes. Would you both like to come have some tea? I was in the middle of making some before I heard the commotion. I’ll sort out the mess in here later, don’t worry.”

The pair of them nodded and collected their things before following Lupin up to his office. It was a little awkward at first - the three of them drinking their tea together - but eventually they became a lot more relaxed around each other; Violet noticeably so.

“At this rate I don’t think either of you should be turning the homework in,” Lupin started off after a few minutes of that rather awkward silence. “In fact you could probably demonstrate the use of  _ Carpe Retractum _ in class, explain why it’s useful against Red Caps - do that and I’ll give you full marks.  _ And... _ ” He opened his desk drawer, rooting about for something inside of it before placing a very old, battered copy of  _ One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest _ down in front of Violet. “You get this.”

Violet’s eyes darted from the book to Lupin and back again, a quizzical expression crossing her usually so sure features. “Are you bribing me?” she murmured, and Harry spluttered into his teacup in an attempt not to laugh.

“I know how much you hate getting up in front of others, so unfortunately I would have to bribe you. I do apologise.” There was a rather mischievous glint in his eyes that suggested his apology was rather empty.

“Fine,” she replied with an eye roll.

“I’m surprised the two of you aren’t outside enjoying the snow with your friends.”

“Oh! We did this morning, sir, until Fred Weasley pelted Violet in the face with a snowball by accident,” Harry explained. 

“I fell off a wall of snow we’d built, so we called it a day after that,” Violet said with a shrug. “I’d be  _ terrible _ at Quidditch,” was the afterthought that came out of her mouth. “Or at the very least, I’d get absolutely ruined by Bludgers.”

“That reminds me - Harry, have you managed to order a new broom yet? I realise I had never asked,” Lupin said.

Harry shook his head, sighing. “Not yet. Haven’t found one I like the look of. Besides, we don’t have a match until after the holidays anyway. I’ve got time.”

They passed the time like that for the next half an hour; lots of idle, quiet chit chat about nothing. It was strangely comforting for both Harry and Violet, with the latter beginning to find herself warming up to Lupin a little more. She tried not to make it too noticeable, but when the pair left his office (Violet with the book in hand), even Harry couldn’t resist trying to lightly tease her about it. She didn’t buy into the teasing too much and remained as nonplussed about his comments as possible, mostly because she knew it was all in good jest.

The rest of the weekend drift by for Violet in a wintery haze: trips back and forth from the Common Room to the library, working quietly by the fire, and occasionally engaging in the odd conversation with her friends.

When Monday rolled around for Defence Against the Dark Arts, Violet was apprehensive while Harry was more excited. They sat next to each other at the desk Harry would usually be at with Ron, while the ginger boy sat with Hermione (the pair of them quite bemused by the new seating situation for this class). The desks had also been pushed further back in the classroom so that there was ample space for the aforementioned demonstration Lupin wanted to do.

At the start of the lesson, Lupin went around collecting in the written homework from everyone except Harry and Violet. He called them up to the front of the class, before going to write on the chalkboard. The shield from the incident at the weekend

“The seize and pull charm,” he said, writing those words with a flourish and turning to face his students. “Miss Merryworth and Mr Potter here discovered this nifty spell over the weekend, and almost destroyed the classroom in the process.”

“That’s an over exaggeration, sir,” Violet muttered with her cheeks steadily going pink, causing him to laugh.

“Perhaps it is,” he admitted. “Would you care to share the incantation?”

“ _ Carpe Retractum. _ ”

“Precisely!” he beamed at her, and she shrank back, trying not to look at the rest of the class. “Some Red Caps carry shields - this can help grab it off them so you can cast a Knockback Jinx to incapacitate them. Otherwise, the jinx will bounce off. However… there  _ is _ a catch with this spell. What would that be, Mr Potter?”

Harry balked for a second.

“Moveable objects…” Violet hissed to him out of the corner of her mouth.

“Um… well, if you use it on another moveable object, you’ll… you’ll essentially be moving towards each other. So if a Red Cap is carrying the shield… you could get into a bit of a situation where you’re both moving towards each other?”

“Exactly, Harry, well done! Now, if you and Miss Merryworth could please demonstrate this, the shield is just here…”

Violet gulped as she waited for Harry to pick up the shield and put it on his arm. They stood several metres apart in front of the class, Lupin moving out of the way of the danger zone. She aimed her wand and cast the spell-

“ _ Carpe Retractum! _ ”

The orange cord sprung out from her wand and latched onto the shield. Violet then gripped her wand with both hands and gave the cord a good  _ yank, _ hard enough for Harry to trip forward and lose his stance so that the shield came flying off his arm and clattering to the floor. He’d dropped to his knees being unable to balance properly.

“Excellent!” Lupin exclaimed, incredibly pleased.

Violet went over to Harry and held out her hand to help him up.

“Cheers,” he said, getting up off the floor and dusting himself off.

“I think that should be ten points apiece to Gryffindor - you both went above and beyond this weekend,” Lupin told them.

Harry grinned at Violet and held up his hand for a high five. After leaving him hanging for a moment, she gave in - albeit very awkwardly. They returned to their seats with Violet ignoring the rather stunned expressions and whispers from some of her classmates about that interaction she’d just had with Harry.

“You did good,” Harry whispered to her.

“Thanks. You too,” she shot him a tiny smile.

From that point onwards in Defence Against the Dark Arts - and  _ only _ in Defence Against the Dark Arts - Violet found a bit of confidence when Lupin called on her to either answer a question or demonstrate a spell. She found the latter notion far easier when she was paired up with Harry for it, and became more enthused with his high fives whenever something went right. It was the only time anybody ever saw them act like a proper duo.

It was also the start of them both consistently getting full marks in the class, and Harry being more inclined to do a bit of extra work for a class for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I couldn't resist adding in a reference to the Prisoner of Azkaban game! The Carpe Retractum spell was one of my favourites to acquire in that game. Also this was an excuse to start laying down a stronger foundation between Harry and Violet. Hope you all enjoyed!


	13. Winter Hogsmeade

The last Hogsmeade trip of the term was the day after all classes finished. The day after that would see people heading home to their families for the Christmas holidays. As ever when it came to the Hogsmeade trips, Violet very much respectfully kept quiet during the breakfast discussion as she caught sight of Harry only listening to Ron and Hermione chat with a rather upset enthusiasm.

At one stage, however, she did notice him perk up a little, as if an interesting thought had struck him. The pair of them locked eyes for a moment, and when Harry looked away very quickly, Violet’s suspicions began to grow. Either way - whatever it was running through the boy’s mind - he had no intention of sharing and therefore it wasn’t any of her business.

Once her, Hermione, and Ron were all wrapped up warm, they said their goodbyes to Harry and started on the chilly walk down to the nearby village together. As they walked, they made a plan about the order in which they would go to the shops to try and avoid crowded places. It did mean they started in the Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop, followed up by Dervish and Banges, and then a quick visit to the Shrieking Shack.

That was when things took a rather interesting turn.

The three of them were minding their own business, when Malfoy showed up to taunt them.

“Bit grand for you isn’t it, Weaslebee? Don’t all your family sleep in one room?” He was smirking and his friends laughed. Violet rolled her eyes.

“Shut your mouth, Malfoy…” Ron mumbled, dejected.

“Oooh, not very friendly-”

“Says the one who came here to taunt us,” Violet said calmly, shocking everyone present. “Do everyone a favour and leave us alone, please?”

It was at that moment a snowball pelted Malfoy in the back of the head. He and his friends jumped in fear questioning who was there. As more snowballs headed the way of him and his friends along with hats and trousers being pulled down, Violet, Hermione and Ron all erupted into laughter as they came to the realisation who was even doing it. Malfoy was dragged by an invisible man a bit closer to the Shrieking Shack, and that was the final straw.

The Slytherins ran off bloody terrified.

That was when Harry revealed himself by taking off some kind of cloak to fall about laughing with his friends.

“How did you -  _ what? _ ” Violet was relatively gobsmacked by his sudden appearance. “You… you have an Invisibility Cloak?!”

He chuckled as the four of them began to walk back to the village. “Oh yeah, probably should have mentioned that?”

“Yeah, maybe! I thought you were planning on sneaking out! What did you do, walk out the front door under that cloak?”

“Actually…”

Harry ended up launching into a story involving the Weasley twins handing him a magical map of Hogwarts to keep, and also find secret passageways - which was exactly how he ended up getting to Hogsmeade in the first place. Ron and Hermione were at opposite ends of the spectrum in regards to the map: Ron thought it was brilliant, whereas Hermione believed that Harry should hand it in. Violet stayed quiet, but her mind was racing with ideas. She liked the idea of that map and secret passageways. It seemed fun.

Although the whimsy of their conversation died down pretty quickly after they overhead the Minister for Magic discussing Sirius Black with McGonagall outside the Three Broomsticks. Harry had disappeared under the Invisibility Cloak again and had clearly gone to follow them inside.

Unfortunately for Violet, Hermione, and Ron, they were not allowed into the Three Broomsticks in this instance. Instead they opted for sitting nearby and waiting outside.

“This isn’t going to end well, is it?” Violet asked the other two nervously.

“No, it’s not,” Hermione agreed. “All we can do is wait until he comes back out.”

Violet sighed, but nodded all the same. “Well, there’s one way to end the term, I guess…”

She sat silently while the other two tried to pass the time with idle chit chat between themselves for the next ten or so minutes - a time frame that seemed so small but passed so slowly - when Hermione spotted fresh footprints in the snow with no body attached to them. They were hurrying pretty quickly away from the Three Broomsticks.

The three friends immediately followed. The footprints led them to a clearing in the woods just outside of the village. They could hear quiet crying coming from a tree stump, so Hermione carefully approached and removed the Invisibility Cloak off of Harry. He wouldn’t look at her.

“Harry, what happened?” she asked him gently.

“He was their friend… and he betrayed them. He was their  _ friend! _ ” The outburst as he looked up was unexpected, and it made both the girls recoil ever so slightly. “I hope he finds me, because when he does I’m gonna be ready. And when he does, I’m gonna kill him.”

There was no understanding the rage inside Harry right now, Violet realised, because she couldn’t possibly imagine what was even going through his mind now if that was the case about Sirius Black. She could only watch helplessly as he stormed off, throwing the cloak back over himself in the process. 

“He doesn’t mean that, does he?” Violet asked Hermione when she came back to her and Ron. The other girl and boy glanced between each other awkwardly.

“He… he could mean it. There’s no telling, he’s too angry right now,” Hermione replied, and they started off out of the clearing again.

“I reckon we let him cool off,” Ron said. “Let him get his head on straight, yeah?”

“He’ll cool off, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’ll have his head on straight,” she pointed out, then glanced at Violet. “Maybe… maybe you should try talking to him, Violet?” she suggested carefully. “You two have been  _ very _ close recently, and he always does come to talk to you when you’re troubled…”

Violet sighed, but nodded all the same. She knew that eventually she would have to give back to Harry in that regard, but her stomach was knotted at the thought of having to comfort another person about something so incredibly personal. She was worried about saying the wrong thing, or being completely useless at it… It wasn’t like she was awful socially, but people were never her strong point. People made her nervous. It didn’t matter that Harry was a friend, it was her first time being somebody’s shoulder to cry on, so to speak.

She hid her now shaking hands in her pockets as she, Hermione, and Ron now exited Hogsmeade and began to blustery walk back to Hogwarts. The weather had taken a slight turn during their time in the village, with the snow beginning to fall more heavily and less gently than it had been in the morning.

“Don’t blame me if he comes out of it worse…” Violet then murmured.

“Violet, you’re a  _ lovely _ girl, and one of our close friends! Harry’ll appreciate it. Besides, you had a pretty good bedside manner when he was in the Hospital Wing after that Quidditch match.”

“This is  _ different _ to then! This is  _ really _ deep…”

“I know, I know…” Hermione was beginning to sound exasperated. “It’ll mean a lot to him if you-”

“I get it. Don’t worry,” Violet said softly.

They carried on back up to the castle in silence.

Harry was nowhere to be seen in the Common Room, and when Ron came out of the boys dormitory all refreshed and warm, he informed Violet that he was in there on his own. Taking a deep breath, Violet made her way up. She dropped off winter outerwear in her dorm and grabbed the Christmas present she’d had wrapped up for him for a few weeks now.

She held it behind her back as she poked her head through the doorway to see he was sitting on the floor by the window with his back to her. “Harry?” she called out to him quietly. He glanced at her for a moment but went back to staring out the window, not saying anything.

Violet crept in and closed the door behind her with a click. She wandered over to Harry and sat down opposite him, holding out the wrapped present to him. He stared at her oddly before taking it gingerly.

“I’m heading back to my parents’ for Christmas tomorrow morning, so…” she trailed off awkwardly. “You can open it now if you want.” She shrugged. He carefully peeled off the wrapping paper to reveal a book,  _ Confronting the Faceless, _ and a hefty bar of chocolate _. _ He didn’t say anything for a moment, so Violet awkwardly filled the gap. “You’re really good at Defence Against the Dark Arts, and I thought you might want… to just… read something a bit more challenging to do with the subject? Sorry if it’s rubbish-”

“It’s not,” Harry said, looking up at her with a soft smile. “It’s great, really - thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Um… Harry…”

“D’you reckon Lupin knew him?” he asked her suddenly.

“W-what?”

“Sirius Black. If Lupin knew my parents and yours… and you think they went to school with Sirius Black, do you think Lupin knew him as well?”

Violet squirmed a little uncomfortably. “If Lupin knew your parents, and Sirius was the one who - never mind… I’d assume they were all connected in some way. And if Lupin did know Sirius - and was friends with him - he must have felt awful… losing his best friends to a murderer, and finding out another one betrayed them?” She paused a moment. “Maybe… maybe that’s why he became close with my parents. They would have been his last friends alive at the time.”

Harry nodded, looking down at the floor and trying to hide his face. Violet could see the tears that were beginning to drip down his cheeks for the second time that day, and she shuffled a little closer to him. She reached out and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently.

He immediately dropped the book and pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his head in her shoulder and squeezing her tightly. Violet got to her knees and carefully wrapped her arms around him. “It’s okay,” she whispered, adjusting herself so that she could rest her cheek on top of his head.

“It’s not fair. Why did he have to do that? His best friends?” His voice was muffled by her shoulder, but that didn’t matter.

“I don’t know…” she said softly. “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, and-” Violet stopped short, struggling to find her next few words for a moment. Then it clicked. “And not being fine about it,  _ is fine. _ ”

Slowly, she pulled back from him and sat back down on the ground. Harry still kept his head bowed down, so she took the hem of her jumper and carefully wiped his face clear of his tears.

“Thanks,” he took a deep breath, finally meeting her eye. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Violet smiled at him then ruffled his hair. He batted her off and grinned. “Just - don’t do anything stupid?”

He rolled his eyes and picked up the book before rising from the floor, offering a hand out to help Violet up too. “I won’t. Promise,” he then said, dropping the book on his bed now. “Also… if you’re going back to your parents’ tomorrow - we’ve got something for you. Come on.”

Harry took her by the hand and led her down to the Common Room where Ron and Hermione were anxiously waiting for them on the sofa. Their faces brightened up when they saw Harry was alright, and Violet mildly concerned.

“Hermione, Violet’s just told me she’ll be going home for Christmas,” Harry said. “Could you-?”

The other girl’s eyes widened and she positively beamed, before she disappeared up to the girls’ dormitory for a minute before coming back down holding something suspiciously book shaped in Christmas wrappings. She approached where Violet and Harry were standing, and Ron did too with a massive grin on his face.

“What… what is this?” Violet asked as she took the package from Hermione.

“Your present from the three of us,” Harry replied. “We’ve been thinking about it for a while, actually, because we weren’t sure if actual books were a good idea because we didn’t exactly know how many you would have.”

“Open it!” Ron urged Violet, and she did; with trembling hands, no less. She dropped the wrappings to the floor to find a leather bound book, which when she opened it… it was partially filled with candid photos of her and her now close friends. It really was as simple as pictures of them around Hogwarts either talking, sitting together, or laughing. There were about ten photos, and plenty of remaining pages to fill up.

“How did you-?”

“Colin Creevey  _ can _ be sneaky with a camera. I asked him last month,” Harry explained. Violet drew her lips together tightly as tears welled up in her eyes. She shut the book and hugged it close to her chest; that was all that needed to be said.

The three of them all surrounded her in a loving group hug. It was certainly something that took all their minds about what happened in Hogsmeade earlier that day. Violet had never felt so loved by people other than her parents, and the tears streaming down her face reflected that. She felt more part of their group now.

“Thank you,” she whispered when they all broke apart. “Really, thank you.”

“Merry  _ early _ Christmas, Violet,” Harry said, attempting to ruffle her hair - it was no use, because it was tied back in a plait like usual. For a moment - for the rest of the day - all was forgotten about Sirius Black for the time being, just as it should be.

“Where did you come up with this?” she asked quietly.

“Hagrid gave me one at the end of first year, but with pictures of my parents in. Thought you might want something similar, since you’ve… well, you keep saying yourself you’ve not had friends before, right?”

“And we thought you’d want something meaningful to solidify that,” Hermione added. “You’re a part of our group now.”

“Until you want out of course,” Ron joked.

Violet giggled. “I don’t think I’ll want out. You’re stuck with me for as long as you want me around.”

“I think we’ll always want you around,” Harry told her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re alright, you know.”

“Cheers, Harry.”


	14. Christmas, 1993

The level that Christmas was celebrated in the Merryworth household was usually dependent on whether or not Lupin was in attendance. Over the years his appearances would be very on and off around that time, and it was only now that Violet knew why. She would have stayed at Hogwarts this year, but elected to save it. She needed a breather from everything.

Christmas would be quieter in the years that Lupin did not stop by; the Merryworths elected to have a small dinner and play board games, or watch Muggle films on the television. It was always a pleasant affair. When Lupin  _ did _ stop by, the four of them together put more effort into making the day as festive as possible. Everyone dressed up in their  _ extra _ nice clothes, champagne was cracked open - Violet was allowed a sip - and music was blasted through the house.

When he came by on Christmas Eve to take up residence in their guest room this year, Violet couldn’t help but notice how sickly looking he was. The full moon was probably going to be in a few days, so she at least did him the service of quietly taking his bag up to the guest room so that he could at least sit and have a cup of tea with her father. Her mother was working a half day, and would be back later on in the afternoon.

She wandered back down to the kitchen to find them nattering away like a pair of old men - even though they were only in their thirties - and her father immediately handed her a cup of tea.

“You need to stop keeping things from us, missy,” Thomas then wagged his finger at her. “I know you  _ mentioned _ having friends, but I didn’t think you’d be so close with them! I know we met them over the summer but…”

Violet rolled her eyes and glared at Lupin, who idly sipped on his tea as if he had nothing to do with the current conversation despite the fact it was clear as day he had slipped her father the information.

“Well, when you help someone out with homework for over two years, you do end up becoming close friends, I guess…” she then muttered, leaning against the wall.

“But you talk to them everyday? Not just on and off?” Thomas was looking incredibly hopeful, and beamed at his daughter when she nodded. “I’m proud of you.”

“Violet and Mr Potter can be quite the duo when they want to be,” Lupin then added, teasingly. “He’s probably your best friend, hmm?”

She went pink. “Something like that, yes.”

“He’s coaxed her out of her shell a bit.”

“Please… Uncle Remus, please stop,” she then pleaded. This was not the conversation she wanted to be having right now. It occurred to Violet that she was going to have to mention that she knew about Lupin’s condition. “And… while we’re here…”

“Violet  _ knows _ ,” Lupin then said quickly, realising where her train of thought was going. “It’s fine. We’ve spoken about it.”

Thomas glanced between the two of them thoughtfully, a trait that Violet had most definitely picked up from him, along with his soft facial features.

“I figured it out thanks to Professor Snape,” she added. She then paused for a moment. “Actually, um, there’s something I haven’t told you or mum yet…”

Dinner that evening was rather eventful as Violet hastily recounted how Snape had been trying to aggravate her via getting her to help with the Wolfsbane potion and a lesson on Werewolves. Genevive were absolutely gobsmacked at first by the behaviour of a teacher, but then came to realise-

“Well, he was a bloody awful human at school,” Genevive concluded. “I’d have hexed the bugger if I had less pride.”

Now that was a sentence none of them had quite expected to come out of Genevive’s mouth, as outgoing as she was. The three quieter souls of the room stared at her in shock.

“I wasn’t in your year at school, but was he always this vile?” Thomas asked, his choice of words more respectful than his wife’s.

“Unfortunately, yes…” Lupin sighed. “It probably didn’t help that my friends had a tendency to… ahh,  _ aggravate him further _ .”

“But you also had a helping hand there too, Remus,” Genevive pointed out.

“Only sometimes, might I add,” he laughed. “I did try my best to keep them in line when I was made Prefect.”

“You were a Prefect?” Violet asked with a raised eyebrow. “Actually, that sort of makes sense…”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you were made Prefect, Violet,” Thomas said.

Her gaze dropped to her plate. “Only if I were in a different house to Hermione Granger…” she then mumbled.

Understanding that maybe it was going to be a touchy topic, the adults moved onto a different topic of conversation that Violet had no interest in. Eventually she excused herself from the dinner table and retreated up to her room, where she threw on a record (Kate Bush’s  _ Hounds of Love _ album) and lay back in bed whiling away the rest of the evening with a book ( _ One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest _ ).

Once it got past about eleven o’clock, she could hear her parents and Lupin heading to bed. They all tapped on her door and wished her good night - not wishing to enter and disturb her - so that’s when Violet decided it was high time for bed as well.

She woke up on Christmas Day to terrible Christmas being blasted through the house. Any time Lupin was over, there was always a rotation on who the culprit was. It was rather unfortunate she could only count on one hand the amount of times this had happened - it turns out only five of her Christmas, including this one, included Lupin. Even then, he didn’t look to be up to scratch this year to be celebrating with anymore. It made her wonder if he was merely trying to put in extra effort with  _ her _ specifically.

Violet was also fully aware of the fact she was probably the last one in the house to wake up and get ready for the day. She wasn’t a particularly festive person, but she did enjoy a good excuse to put on a nice dress - this one was a knee length lilac number that was quite flowy and had long sleeves. For once she kept her hair down, and it fell to her elbows in a messy wave that she attempted to straighten out but decided against it; there were only three other people who would be seeing it.

If anything, Christmas was to be a smart casual affair in the house today. The messy hair functioned as the casual part of her get up for the day, Violet decided.

It was about ten thirty when she made her way down to the living room to find that her mother was putting presents into the appropriate piles for each person, and her father and Lupin had already started on champagne. There were two extra glasses poured - one for her mother, and one for Violet herself. When she turned eleven, Christmas had been her first introduction to alcohol - she was allowed a tiny glass of champagne as a celebratory thing once a year since then.

They were all rather bookish people, so of course most gift exchanges were books of the fiction and nonfiction kind, along with sweets and chocolates that Violet had picked up for everyone at Honeydukes. Lupin also received a couple of new, soft cardigans - a running theme for him from Violet’s parents, apparently.

There was also one more soft package that was labelled to Violet and she was confused:

“Was this from any of you?” she asked with a frown before opening the envelope to read the card.

“No, it arrived a couple of days ago, actually!” Genevive said, sipping on her champagne.

With trembling hands, Violet peeled the card off of the parcel and opened it.

_ Dear Violet, _

_ Merry Christmas! Ronald told me that you were a new friend and wanted to make you feel more like family. I hope this is a step in that direction, I’ve heard wonderful things about you. I’m sure we’ll meet one day. _

_ From, _

_ Molly Weasley _

“I - I think this is from Ron and his mum?” Violet said, flabbergasted as she put the card to one side and carefully unwrapped her final gift. Inside was a jumper knitted in a deep purple colour, and a bright white ‘V’ in the middle. Much like she did with the photo album from her friends, she hugged the jumper close - then of course, actually tried it on to find it fit perfectly.

“You’ve got some wonderful friends, Violet,” Lupin said. “Keep hold of them.”

She nodded and took a sip of champagne. She pulled a face and then handed it to her father. Maybe in a few years she would enjoy the damned drink.

The rest of the morning passed in a strange haze of conversation and Genevive enchanting ornaments for the sake of it. By the time Christmas lunch was almost ready in the middle of the afternoon, they retreated in the dining room - which held a sizeable piano and the adults were egging on Violet to play.

Playing piano was something she did out of reluctance on Christmas Day, mostly because she had mainly taken up lessons when she was at a Muggle school in her childhood to keep herself occupied. It was all she could do really, since she didn’t have any friends to speak of back then. She wasn’t particularly good at piano, but she could hold a few basic tunes and some Christmas songs to appease the crowd.

Being an only child was weird in this instance. Very weird indeed. Everything she did was met with instant praise and her quite literally keeping her head down humbly. She knew she wasn’t very good at the only creative thing she’d ever done, but being the apple of her parents’ eyes they always encouraged her and tried to boost her self esteem in that case.

So of course, Violet reluctantly played a couple of Christmas songs before lunch while the adults sang along terribly.

They all enjoyed the enchanted Christmas crackers and a very hefty lunch which left them all pretty much in a food coma. Everything started to wind down for the day after that; Violet and Thomas had a preference of watching things on the television - Genevieve was still unnerved by Muggle television, so opted for reading alongside Lupin. Thus were the joys of a wizard and Muggleborn household.

By about eight o’clock that evening, Violet had dozed off to sleep curled up on the sofa. Lupin was about to head off back to his house, so the adults all spoke in hushed whispers so as not to wake the girl up. He merely patted her on the head as a means of saying goodbye.

The next morning, Violet awoke still on the sofa but with a blanket over her, and two pages of a book tucked in with her. There was a note from Lupin with them as well.

_ For the Folio Bruti. _

She rubbed her eyes.  _ An interesting departure gift… _ she thought, before heading upstairs so she could shower and change.

The rest of the holidays passed quietly as they normally did.

New Year’s Eve was spent playing board games with the Wizarding Wireless Network on in the background, which rather disappointed Violet; she was hardly a fan of the Weird Sisters or Celestina Warbeck (to name a couple of acts), and would have preferred to put on a record. She was overruled by her parents on that one.

The three of them stayed up until midnight and ended up watching the fireworks blast off from the comfort of their back garden, wrapped up in blankets and drinking hot chocolate.

Violet couldn’t help but notice the glowing full moon amidst all the dancing lights in the sky, and her thoughts drifted to Lupin for a moment. How it must have been horrible to be spending the night of the New Year in pain, but she realised that he  _ had _ been taking his potion while at hers. Her father had cooked up a batch for him to keep, so maybe - just maybe - Lupin was in his wolf form and watching the fireworks with a more human eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehh. I don't really like this chapter and had already rewritten it twice before coming to something that I thought was passable. So like. Take it. I beg you all. TAKE IT! And please forgive me how awful this is, the next one is way better and more fun :)


	15. The Secret Room

The first thing Violet did upon returning to Hogwarts after the holidays was run up to Ron and give him the biggest hug she felt she could muster. She did it without saying a word and it shocked the boy for a moment, before he returned it.

“I take it you got the jumper then?” he asked her as they settled down by the fireplace with Harry.

“I did - thank you so much! I did write an owl back to your mum, but wanted to thank  _ you _ in person. How was Christmas here?”

At this point, Harry and Ron glanced at each other awkwardly, making Violet narrow her eyes in suspicion. It took a few more moments before either of them said anything.

“I got a new broom for Christmas. A Firebolt,” Harry started off. “Only… we didn’t know who sent it, and Hermione got McGonagall to confiscate it to check for jinxes because they both thought it was sent by Sirius Black.”

“And that bloody cat of hers keeps going after Scabbers…” Ron mumbled. “We’ve not really spoken to her since.”

Violet’s mouth was agape. It was incredible how much could happen in the space of a couple of weeks. Moreover, she was a little appalled by their behaviour.

“So you’ve not spoken to Hermione because of a cat doing what it does naturally, and because she was trying to look out for you?” she then said with a sigh. They couldn’t really respond to that. “I’m not getting involved.”

It was awkward, being split between friends in a way like this. Violet spent half of her free time with Harry and Ron in the Common Room, and the other half of it with Hermione in the library. The other girl was clearly rather put out by how the boys were treating her, but was thankful for the fact that Violet was remaining entirely impartial to the situation.

It did mean, however, that Violet ended up with bleeding ears - in the metaphorical sense. She had to endure rant after rant from both parties in the quarrel, and after putting up with it for two weeks she ended up distancing herself from them all entirely. She didn’t feel too bad about it at first, but it did make Defence Against the Dark Arts rather awkward whenever Lupin wanted her and Harry to demonstrate things.

She had taken to sitting with Hermione so that Harry and Ron could sit together, but considering the three of them were aware of the fact she was avoiding them all whenever she could… the once magical dynamism between Harry and Violet in the class became a little stilted for a brief period of time. Even Lupin noticed his best students were struggling to be around each other towards the end of January.

“Miss Merryworth, Mr Potter, please could you stay for a moment?” he called to them at the end of class one Friday.

They looked at each other uncomfortably, but approached their teacher at the front of the class as the rest of the students filtered out.

“What’s going on, you two?” There was a serious expression on his face as he folded his arms. The two teens blanked for a minute and actively tried not to look at each other for means of help to explain.

“Nothing too concerning,” Violet then said suddenly. She then felt Harry’s eyes on her and she managed to subtly kick his foot.

“Y-Yeah,” the boy then said. “Just… broom issues. Pet issues.”

“Which I’ve decided to not get involved in,” the girl added. Realisation then dawned on Lupin’s face.

“I see. I would appreciate it if this didn’t spill into class as much as it has done the past few lessons. Your rapport has suffered. Resolve it, if you please could. Off you go.”

As they left the classroom, Harry tried to pull Violet aside but she shrugged out of his grip.

“I hope your Anti-Dementor lessons have been going well, Harry,” she said softly. “But I’m taking nobody’s side here. I’ll see you later.”

And off she went, to go retreat in her usual corner in the library.

If she was ever in the Common Room, Violet would have to put up with passive aggressive comments thrown by Ron across the room about Scabbers. It genuinely made her consider picking Hermione’s side - especially when the girl fled up to the girl’s dormitory in tears. Violet looked over at Ron and shook her head before going up to see if her friend was alright.

That idea was in vain - Hermione had thrown the curtains shut on her four poster bed. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise, because it stopped her from getting involved like she had said from the start.

It took until the first week of February before Violet finally cracked.

“Violet, come on, you have to admit-”

“Nope. I am  _ not _ getting involved,” she said to Harry and Ron for what must have been the hundredth time over the past month or so. They’d met at the top of the stairs after exiting their dormitories and had walked down to the Common Room by now.

“You’ve  _ got _ to have thought about it at some point, right?” Ron was getting desperate, and it was beginning to irritate her.

Violet then saw Hermione buried behind a pile of books and sighed as she looked back at the two boys. She gestured with her head and led them over to the other girl, who looked up from her work brightly.

“Right. I’ve had it with all three of you,” were Violet’s first words. Hermione was about to protest. “Yes, even you. You’re all after my opinion on  _ everything _ , so here it comes.”

She turned to Ron. “I get it. It’s annoying having Crookshanks jump after Scabbers constantly any time the pair of them are in the same room! I’d feel the same if Astra were in here…” When Ron looked triumphant, Violet held up her finger. “But Crookshanks  _ is _ a cat. I’ve seen him bring in dead mice and birds. It really is in his nature and you need to accept that.”

That shut him down enough, and then Violet rounded on Harry.

“You should be thankful that you have friends looking out for you. I may not understand Quidditch but I do understand how much it means to you, and to be able to fly and do well at it!” she explained. “It does not mean you get to be mad at Hermione for being a good friend.”

Finally, she addressed the bushy haired girl. “Which leads me to this: Hermione, you at least should have discussed handing the Firebolt over because you thought it might have been sent by Sirius Black and therefore potentially cursed. Friends don’t go behind each other’s backs like that.”

Silence. Violet took a deep breath.

“The three of you are my friends but the constant squabbling makes it incredibly difficult to be around you all sometimes. Sure - friendships aren’t perfect, but this is childish! Really, truthfully childish!” she exclaimed. They all stared at her rather bemused for they had not expected her to raise her voice in the slightest. “Even Lupin noticed something was up!” She fell into the chair next to Hermione rather glumly.

“Maybe you’re right,” Hermione then said quietly. “This has started to get out of hand… Boys, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah… sorry Hermione,” Ron muttered.

“Sorry Hermione,” Harry said.

At that moment, something incredibly opportune happened.

McGonagall came walking into the Gryffindor Common Room with a Firebolt in hand, quite pleased to hand it back to Harry; she informed him that he had a very good friend, and hoped that he would beat Ravenclaw in the upcoming Quidditch match. The four teens were stunned that the stars decided to align in that moment. They all glanced at each other in amazement, before Hermione got back to doing her homework and Violet very willingly - if not oddly - went with the boys to Quidditch practice later that evening.

She and Ron sat in the stands with Madam Hooch watching as the Gryffindor team practiced flawlessly. The Firebolt was definitely a great addition to their already talented team.

“What’s your deal with this game then?” Ron asked her. She jumped, as they hadn’t really spoken much while watching the players.

“Oh! Well… my dad was a pretty good Chaser in his time,” she started to explain. “He tried his best with me when I was kid, but I didn’t quite have the natural talent he did with Quidditch. I could just about balance on the broom, but once you try and chuck me a ball… it’s not going to happen.”

“I wonder how you’d cope on a Firebolt. Come on, you  _ must _ wanna have a go, right?” He was getting excited about the prospect of practice ending, as Harry had previously promised Ron that he could take the Firebolt for a spin.

She shrugged. “It’s pretty fast…”

Ron waved her uncertainty off. “If it helps, we’ll get on the old Comets and get up there with you if you do want to try it?”

He was really trying his best to get her up in the air and despite the fact she was terrified of that prospect, Violet trusted Ron. She trusted that he would look out for her in this case, and so would Harry. After thinking it over for a few more moments, she nodded. It was worth it to agree to Ron’s idea, if not to see how happy he looked that she was willing to try it out.

When practice ended, Harry came up to them in the stands and handed Ron the Firebolt first. As the ginger boy went zooming around the pitch, Harry sat down next to Violet and they watched him together in silence at first, before he started talking. Madam Hooch had dozed off.

“You didn’t need to come,” he said.

“I wanted to,” she replied, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. The sun was very close to setting and a light breeze had settled into the cold, February air. “Besides, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about with that bloody broom you all fell out over.”

“And?”

“Yeah, it’s alright, I suppose…” she teased him, making him laugh. “Ron said I should have a go.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I think I might. He said he’ll grab a Comet and get up there with me. Said you would too…?”

Harry nodded quickly. “Yeah. Course. Neither of us would leave you to fly on your own.”

They watched as Ron disappeared down under the stands briefly, and came out walking a few minutes later except with two additional broomsticks. Harry and Violet took that as the right time to head down onto the pitch, with Ron handing off the appropriate broomstick to each of them.

Before either of the boys got on their brooms, they helped to make sure Violet was sitting properly and had the correct grip. They could see in her face that she was nervous and kept checking to see if she really wanted to fly. She insisted that she did. Only when she was hovering a couple of feet off the ground with a mildly stunned expression did they hop onto the Comets and fly higher into the air, leaving her several feet below them.

“It’s easy! Better quality brooms respond better!” Ron called down to her.

Violet nodded. “Right.”

“Come on, Vi, you can do this! Fly up!”

She frowned. “Vi?”

“You not had a nickname before?”

“No!”

“Well it suits you!” Harry told her. “Come on!”

She took a deep breath and slowly but surely made her way up to Harry and Ron. She was surprised at how well the Firebolt responded to her: any small movement she made in any direction and it would go that way. By the time she joined Harry and Ron, she was rather pleased with herself considering that they must have been at least thirty feet off the ground. They encouraged her to do a lap of the pitch, which she did at a mildly faster speed with the pair of them flying underneath her.

Violet managed to pick up a bit of confidence and flew as fast as she allowed herself to without making herself feel ill with the speed with which she was going at. Her long plait was whipping out behind her and she wondered what it would feel like if her hair had been completely loose; almost immediately she brushed those thoughts out of her mind. Far too dangerous.

When she realised that she was enjoying this, Violet sped up even more which meant that it was hard for Harry and Ron to keep up with her. By the time she slowed to a halt in the middle of the pitch, she was absolutely giddy with excitement but-

“I feel a bit sick,” she said a little weakly as the boys raced up to her. “That was - that was fast.”

The boys were trying not to laugh, considering it looked like she was about to fall off her broom at any second.

“Yes. Yes it was,” Harry said to her. “Come on, let’s get you back to the ground before you throw up mid air.”

Even at ground level Violet found herself to be a bit wobbly, so once the Comets were put away and they were yelled at by Madam Hooch for not waking her up, Harry and Ron kept their arms around her as they walked back up to the castle. 

“Maybe next time we’ll get you on something slower,” Ron suggested. “Sorry about that, Vi.”

“It’s fine - it was fun! Really, but um… definitely not going to be asking to get on Harry’s Firebolt again anytime soon…”

“I think that’s for the best,” Harry said, squeezing Violet’s shoulder a little. She giggled and by the time they got back up to the castle she was steady on her own two feet again at the very least.

Things were pretty much back to normal after that. Not only did Gryffindor have a smashing victory against Ravenclaw in Quidditch, but Violet didn’t feel so inclined to avoid her friends, Defence Against the Dark Arts was fun again, and she even found herself being able to joke around with Ron a little more - if not still in a more reserved manner. She’d never say with Ron in lessons before, but they found each other’s company in Potions very much appreciated. Especially because the boy was more likely to speak out against Malfoy if he tried anything in regards to making fun of Violet, although she would gently tell him it wasn’t necessary.

Violet also went back to studying with Hermione more regularly. It was a calm time away from the boys that both of the girls enjoyed, particularly because they could find some peace and quiet to do their work without any complaints being thrown around. They even checked over each other’s homework, and sometimes Hermione would get Violet to check over the notes from her excessive extra classes.

Then there was how things went with Harry from that point on. That was a little more peculiar situation, considering their only true habit was shining together in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but on the flip side of things she was most comfortable talking to Harry about nearly anything.

One night they were the only ones that remained in the Common Room going through some Defence Against the Dark Arts homework together. It was getting late - far too late - and soon enough the pair gave up. They’d gone through everything they needed to, and it was about eleven thirty.

Violet started gathering up her books and parchment into one tidy pile. “Should probably head to bed.”

Harry shook himself out of dozing off, and doing the same with his belongings. “Yeah. Probably.” Then an idea struck him. “Or…”

She raised a questioning eyebrow. “Or…?”

“This is going to sound very stupid-”

“Probably.”

“-And very irresponsible-”

“You’re still going to tell me anyways…”

“-But you’ve… not… well, you’ve not exactly experienced the Invisibility Cloak, have you?”

She frowned. “No, I haven’t. If you’re getting at what I think you’re getting at, you’re right in that it’s stupid and irresponsible - not with the tightened security!”

“I know, but it’s a one time thing until all of this blows over.” He paused for a moment, mischief dancing his eyes. “And we can use the Marauders Map.”

Somehow, that sold it for the non-rational part of Violet’s brain. She gritted her teeth as a way of restraining herself from saying anything but she relented. She sighed. Harry knew that was her way of giving in to the idea, and he brightened up. The pair of them briefly returned to their dormitories to change into their pyjamas, and put away their homework. Harry also used that time to collect the Map and his Invisibility Cloak.

When they met back down in the Common Room after ten minutes, Harry opened up the blank parchment and pointed his wand at it.

“I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” he said. Violet watched in awe as ink lines and people’s names and movements started popping up all over the previously blank parchment. Harry handed it to her so he could throw the Invisibility Cloak over them and thus started their night time adventure.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Violet whispered once they were out on the Grand Staircase.

“But you’re still here,” Harry smirked. “Where’d you wanna go?”

She shrugged, surveying the Map. “You know, I have a habit of getting lost on the seventh floor when heading to Divination. Wouldn’t mind getting to know it better.”

He looked back at her oddly and shook his head. “Seriously? You actually want to get to Divination quicker?”

“What? I like to be prompt…” she mumbled.

“Fine,” Harry huffed and they wandered in that general direction. “Keep an eye on the Map.”

She scanned over the surrounding area to their names on the Map. “We’re fine. Filch and Mrs Norris are heading to the North Tower.”

Harry nodded and they made their way safely down several interlinking corridors that were known as the seventh floor. They walked in circles a fair few times before coming across a door that they hadn’t seen before.

“What do you think is in there?” Violet asked. “It’s not on the Map.”

“Dunno. Let’s have a look.”

Harry carefully pushed the door open. Once he and Violet were inside with the door shut again, they took off the Cloak. Their jaws dropped open as they had never set foot inside a room so breathtaking.

It was a strange mix of magic and Muggle alike. The walls glittered and reflected silver, the light coming from a projection of stars that danced around on the ceiling. As the two teens stepped further into the room, the lights drifted across their faces in a hypnotic way that had them more gobsmacked than when they had entered. There were two large bean bags in one corner next to an ornate, silver piano.

There was also a long, thin mat spread across the centre of the room, marked up specifically for Duelling. That was potentially one of the more strange parts of the room. A large bookshelf was set into one of the walls; volumes upon volumes of books that - on closer investigation - were all titles that Violet desired to read.

It was like the room had combined both of Harry and Violet’s comforts into one, creating a space for their own amusement.

“What is this place?” Harry asked.

“I… I have  _ no _ idea…” Violet replied in awe, wandering over to one of the bean bags and collapsing back into it and staring up at the starry night ceiling. “But I like it.”

Her friend came to join her on the other one. “Do we tell anyone about this?”

“No! Otherwise you’ll have to admit to Ron and Hermione you were out after hours when you  _ really _ shouldn’t have been… and so will I.”

“Good point,” Harry agreed. “Why’s there a piano here?”

“I play. Sometimes. Badly. It… kept me occupied in a lonely childhood,” she explained awkwardly, refusing to look at Harry as she spoke. She could feel his eyes on her; she knew they were pitying her, but also understanding her completely.

“I wish I had something like that… but obviously the Dursleys just… well, they didn’t care if I was lonely or not,” Harry muttered. “I can’t wait for the day I don’t have to go back there.”

“If you ever need to escape in the summer holidays, feel free to come to mine,” she offered.

“I’ll take you up on that. Thanks.”

A sense of calm drifted over the two teens as they lay there staring up at the ceiling. It entranced them wholly, and for a moment they forgot about what bothered them. They forgot about the loneliness, the fact that everyone was on edge because of a serial killer being on the loose, and they merely found a quiet moment to think of nothing. There were never any expectations between them in regards on how to be a friend to the other, but the comfort they found in one another in small moments like this was paramount.

They didn’t know how long they remained in silence, but eventually conversation struck up again and they talked most of the night away simply learning more about each other. It must have been hours before they both fell asleep in that unique room, and when they woke up they realised it was past breakfast and their other friends were probably wondering where they were.

Harry and Violet practically ran back to their respective dormitories that Saturday morning, ignoring the inquisitive looks from Ron and Hermione who tried to call after them in the Common Room. Once the pair got to the top of the stairs they shook hands in a silent agreement to only keep that room between themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked this! Wanted to write something a bit more sweet, as ever. Yes, it's the Room of Requirement but they don't know that yet, and yes they will keep coming back to it!
> 
> Also, I have a short spin off of this fic, inspired by a tumblr post about Hogwarts professors shipping Harry with certain people. I can't update it frequently without giving away spoilers for this, but for now the first chapter is up! It's called "The Bet" and can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24306616/chapters/58594021 
> 
> Thanks for all the support :)


	16. The Incident

Naturally, the easy going nature of things didn’t last as long as it could have done; a string of bad luck managed to hit the group of friends.

It started off with being warned about exams and the need to start revision early. Obviously this was something Hermione and Violet were very much all for; the former drew up revision timetables for their group, and the latter had a hand in assisting Harry and Ron with getting up to speed on their weaker subjects.

Secondly, Scabbers had disappeared. It made things tense between Ron and Hermione and eventually he let slip he thought that Crookshanks had killed the rat. Thankfully, Hermione turned the other cheek and didn’t entertain an argument with the boy.

Thirdly, they learned from Hagrid that Buckbeak was to be executed towards the end of the school year. There was nothing they could do to help with that.

Then what was supposed to be a peaceful Saturday studying in the library turned into something far worse.

Violet had been a couple of hours into her afternoon of library time, waiting for her friends to join her for a little bit, when suddenly all the books she had stacked on her table were thrown off. There was nobody else immediately next to the table, and she slowly looked to her left to find both Dexter and Willmott staring menacingly at her, the latter with his wand drawn.

They stalked over, not pleased in the slightest, Willmott still with his wand trained on Violet.

“Now that we have your attention, Merryworth, we’d like a little chat,” he then said as he and his younger brother settled down into chairs.

“What the  _ hell _ did you say to Lupin?” Dexter was scowling at her.

She was glancing back and forth between the two of them and her books on the floor, unsure of how to respond.

“I - I said that you both made digs at me about him, and just… he offered to speak to you, but I told him not to!” Her eyes were wide with worry. She knew what sort of family they came from to know she had to be rightfully afraid when the boys were this vexed.

“So instead of speaking to us, you got him to  _ humiliate _ us? Make digs at  _ us?!” _ Willmott was absolutely seething.

She blinked, taken aback.

Lupin wouldn’t have…? No, what could he have possibly done that was so bad?”

“I’ll have that dog’s  _ teeth _ the next time he compares me to something abominable as you,” spat Dexter, and that caused a flare of anger in Violet.

Without even stopping to think, her cheeks flushed violently and she drew her wand on them and-

“ _ Expelliarmus!” _

Willmott’s wand flew out of his hand, and Violet caught it deftly. Her moment of triumph was dampened by the fact her eldest cousin had jumped out of his seat to grab her under the shoulders, lift her up and slam her crudely against the stone wall behind her.

She whacked her head hard because of the impact and felt a warm, wet trickle down the back of her head and matting her hair together. Dazed, Violet could barely concentrate on what Willmott was saying, nor could she struggle hard enough to get out of his grip; her feet dangled uselessly as she couldn’t find the strength to kick him. She ended up dropping his wand.

“I will  _ not _ be compared to the filth that comes from a Mudblood and blood traitor,” he hissed at her. “I will  _ not _ be made fun of by a pathetic  _ werewolf. _ ”

“Put - put me down,” Violet was crying now; her head was throbbing and the pain was stabbing.

“Not until you admit that I’m better than-”

“Mr Oaks that will be quite enough,” a calm voice drifted over to them.

Violet peered over Willmott’s shoulder to find that Lupin was there with Professors Flitwick and Snapel, along with Madam Pince.

Her cousins looked rather irritated that they were interrupted, and Willmott dropped her. She crumpled to heap on the floor and just about managed to sit up and lean against the wall.

“With your Heads of House.  _ Now _ ,” Lupin told the two boys, and they headed off with the respective teachers. “Madam Pince, I will take it from here - thank you for alerting us to the disturbance.”

The librarian nodded curtly and wandered off. Lupin crouched down in front of Violet, but before he could say anything the sound of running footsteps caused him to glance behind him to find Harry skidding to a halt.

“Violet! Professor! Is everything-? I saw Willmott and Dexter-”

“Harry, if you’d be so kind to collect up Miss Merryworth’s belongings, I think a visit to the Hospital Wing is in order,” Lupin said, turning his attention back to Violet. She had a palm pressed to the back of her head and was struggling to focus on her teacher. Carefully, he took it away from her head to find that it had a fair bit of blood on it.

Regardless of that, Lupin looped an arm under the girl’s shoulder and around her back to help her stand up. She was wobbly, but still remained on her own two feet.

“Give me her bag,” he then said to Harry after the boy had packed away her possessions. He handed it to Lupin who then carried it, as Violet was using Harry as a support while they made their way to Madam Pomfrey.

Once there, Violet didn’t say a word. She sat on the bed and let the nurse set about trying to heal her wound and reduce the pain. Lupin stood watching the girl’s now blank face very carefully, trying to calculate exactly what was going on in her mind. He glanced over to Harry at one point, who looked incredibly worried for his friend, and rightly so.

By the time Madame Pomfrey was done with Violet, McGonagall came into the Hospital Wing.

“Filius alerted me to the incident - thank you, Remus, I shall take over from here,” McGonagall said, and Lupin nodded and took his leave. “Miss Merryworth, please could you tell me what happened?”

Violet said nothing. She just stared into space with tears brimming in her eyes. Harry sat down next to her, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder in an attempt of comforting her. She flinched at that, but relaxed after a moment.

“Professor… I don’t think Violet’ll be telling us what happened. Not today, anyway.”

The older woman nodded. “Very well. Mr Potter, if she does say anything to you in the meantime, please do not hesitate to tell me.”

“Yes, Professor.”

McGonagall left, and Harry turned his attention to Violet properly.

“Violet?”

She sniffed, and Harry realised she was crying quietly. He felt unsure about what to do; it didn’t matter that he’d comforted her in the library before, but this was different. Violet was hurt - genuinely hurt - and she wasn’t going to say anything about the context of it. Not yet anyway. He placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it gently, earning him a small smile of appreciation from her.

She wiped her eyes and then stood up; her hand slipped out of Harry’s. “Can we just go back to the Common Room and not talk about this?” Violet then took her bag from Harry and started making her way out of the Hospital Wing.

He hurried after her; she was walking away very quickly. “You can’t just not talk about this - come on, if not now, at some point!”

Violet sighed, but kept up with her current walking pace nonetheless. “Fine. Willmott and Dexter got very annoyed because I told on them to Lupin.”

“How did they know?” Harry had caught up with Violet by the time they reached the Grand Staircase.

“Going by what they said, Lupin picked their sore spot to talk about when they did badly in class.”

“Which is…?”

“Comparing them to me.” Violet came to a sudden halt on the staircase and turned to Harry. “I’ve mentioned before that mum marrying a Muggleborn and me being a half blood was the worst thing for my mum’s pure blood family. So being compared to me, or me even being better than them is… well, it’s not okay for them. I think they hate the fact I take my classes more seriously than them. So Willmott smashed me against a wall.”

“I’m sorry that they’re like that,” Harry said sincerely. “It does prove you are better than them.”

“Lupin shouldn’t have done that though,” she said, beginning to walk again. “I know I asked him to do something, but I didn’t think he’d go that far - and now the sixth and seventh years probably all know I’m related to them, which is what I wanted to avoid. I think they did too.”

They carried on towards the Gryffindor Common Room.

“I hate them,” Violet told Harry through gritted teeth. “I hate them, I hate them, I hate them!” She erupted back into tears again just outside the portrait hole; angry or sad, she wasn’t sure, but when Harry said the password she made a beeline straight for the girls’ dormitory and wasn’t to be seen again for the rest of the day.

Ron and Hermione had seen her storm in and disappear, they turned to Harry quizzically as he joined them at a table.

“Thought you and Vi were gonna be in the library this afternoon?” Ron asked.

“We were, but something happened… it involved her cousins and I don’t think I should say. It’s for her to tell you,” Harry said. They dropped it after that, and got to work.

A few days later after a Transfiguration lesson, Violet lingered behind so that she could talk to McGonagall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione waited for her outside anxiously, and were relieved that when their friend came out she finally explained to the other two what had happened over the weekend, and that she was informing McGonagall of the incident. She told them all that Willmott and Dexter had had plenty of house points knocked off and detention for several weeks.

The most interesting part was that whenever her cousins were even in the same vicinity as Violet, her friends would immediately gather closer. Soon enough rumours of her relation to them spread around the school and the Gryffindors were near enough ready to jump to her defense if necessary.

Violet actively told people it was fine - to just ignore the pair of them - but secretly she found it delightful when Fred and George Weasley told her about how they managed to prank Dexter at the very least. Within a couple of weeks she no longer cared about the rumours and merely ignored anyone who tried to bring it up with her. The only thing she and her friends had to worry about were studying for their exams.

And finally, Harry managed to get the Marauder’s Map confiscated by Lupin of all people. As if the string of bad luck they’d all clearly been having couldn’t get any worse.

“Couldn’t you… I dunno - ask him to give it back?” Harry asked her one day between classes.

“As if he’d listen to me about it!” Violet replied.

“He might do,” Ron said. Hermione rolled her eyes, clearly taking Violet’s side on this one.

“He’ll know I’m up to something if I suddenly go to talk to him nicely!” Violet’s voice went unusually high pitched, as if she was stressed about the idea.

“Lupin will probably hand it back to you at the end of the year,” Hermione then added. “Besides you shouldn’t even be wandering about after hours…”

Harry and Violet glanced at each other awkwardly when she said that.

“Yeah, I agree with Hermione on that one…” she said in a slightly stilted manner, not that it was noticed by her friends. Harry cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. “Anyway, we really should be worrying about the Divination final…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I've decided that from now on I'll be updating Wednesdays and Sundays. Hope that's alright! :)


	17. Nightmare

For Violet, the exams were unexpectedly a doddle. The written portions of each subject she absolutely flew through, and she found certain aspects of the practicals relatively challenging but nothing she couldn’t handle. Even with Snape breathing down the backs of their necks in the Potions final she still got through it easily enough.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was a bit of an interesting one on the other hand. It didn’t matter that she and Harry were more prepared than even  _ Hermione _ for that one, but the Boggart at the end of the obstacle course that Lupin had set up for them left Violet shaken. Despite that, she still received full marks and was delighted to hear that Harry had done so as well.

She tried her best to not let the Boggart get to her again, but it reared its ugly head later on.

* * *

_ The moonlight trickled in between the branches of the trees, leaving patches of silver that Violet hopped between quite happily while giggling. This was her favourite place at her favourite time of night. She should have been in bed - it had gone eight o’clock - but she’d managed to sneak downstairs and out the back door of the house without her parents noticing. She hoped. _

_ The woods at the back of her house were always empty - day or night. Violet loved that. She realised she’d probably get into trouble for sneaking out for a wander this late, but nobody else ventured down here except for her. Either way, she never wandered so far that she couldn’t see her house. As long as she could see her house, it was fine. _

_ A snapping twig brought her out of her sweet, childish thoughts, and she stopped dead in a patch of moonlight. Slowly, she backtracked into the shadow of a nearby tree and tried her best to hide; it was of no use, however, as what had made the noise was not bound by human nature. _

_ What she knew to be a Werewolf with bright, glowing eyes crept towards her. It wasn’t snarling at her by any means, but it was curious. Its teeth were still on show. _

_ Violet backed against the tree entirely and squeezed her eyes shut tight. Her palms were sweating so she clenched her hands closed. She held her breath for as long as she dared, trying not to cry when she could feel the Werewolf’s breath on her, sniffing her. _

_ Then it was gone. _

_ Heart pounding, Violet opened her eyes and ran back to her house. _

* * *

Violet awoke in a cold sweat.

It had been a long time since she had dreamed of that.

She sat up in bed and allowed her eyes to get adjusted to the dark. She stared down at her shaking hands, willing them to remain still. Violet took a few deep, shuddery breaths, trying to push the image of the curious Werewolf out of her mind. Somehow the memory of it seemed far worse now that she knew it was Lupin.

She knew she wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep, and the urge to go find Lupin and seek some form of comfort and talk to him became far too strong to ignore. It had come on suddenly, and it irritated her. She sat there for a few minutes internally debating whether or not to sneak out and find him, with her fear of the memory taking over and winning out for her to go to his sleeping quarters.

Violet quietly got out of bed and slipped on a pair of trainers and her dressing gown, keeping it tied loose around her so that she could at least air out the sweat on her chest. Grabbing her wand, she crept out of the dormitory and down into the Common Room.

“ _ Lumos, _ ” she hissed and took her leave through the portrait hole.

She knew deep down it was stupid to go and find Lupin at this time of night, and she was worried about getting caught by Filch or another teacher.

Either way, she headed in the vague direction of where it was rumoured that all the teachers who didn’t have Houses to look after slept. It was at an almost middle level in the castle; in a part that Violet had rarely gone in somewhere along the fifth floor.

There was in fact a whole corridor of rooms, each with a labelled door. She had to stroll quite some way until she finally found Lupin’s room, relieved that not a single teacher had been out and about to catch her.

She knocked three times and waited patiently.

A few minutes later a very weary Lupin answered, tying a robe around himself over the top of some pinstripe pyjamas. The moment he saw Violet, he became more immediately alert.

“What are you doing here?!” he hissed angrily. “You shouldn’t be out of bed after hours!”

This wasn’t exactly the reaction she had been expecting, but at the very least understood it. “I - I dreamt about it again,” she told him with a wobbly voice. “First time in years.”

His face softened when he heard the shakiness in her voice, and pulled the door open wider for her to enter. Lupin went to grab his wand so he could set a fire going, and the moment that light flooded the room, Violet whispered “ _ nox _ ” and put her wand away.

She stared around the room, already feeling her fear beginning to ebb away. It was a cosy room, with a large soft looking bed tucked away in one corner, two armchairs and a small table in front of the fireplace, a wardrobe in another corner, and another larger table underneath some cupboards that Violet was certain had a variety of snacks and teas in. She went to look out the window to find that there was quite a nice view of the grounds; she could see Hagrid’s Hut from here.

“It’s been months since you realised I was the Werewolf,” there was a tone of confusion in Lupin’s voice as he set about making Violet a hot drink. “Why now?”

Violet shrugged. “Probably the Boggart at the end of our exam today,” she said. “It’s brought it to the forefront of my mind again.”

“You know I’ll have to tell your parents about this,” he warned her. “All of what’s happened this year, because I know you’ve kept it between you and your friends.”

Violet shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I didn’t want to worry them from so far away.”

“I see…” Lupin didn’t quite buy it, but came over to join her at the window and handed her a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He had one for himself too. “This’ll help.”

Violet took a sip and found an immediate warmth spreading through her body. It felt like she could breathe easy again. She smiled sheepishly at him. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” he said, then added: “Within reason.”

She winced. “Sorry, I… well, I guess it made sense to come to you. I wouldn’t have slept again tonight if I hadn’t.”

“It’s quite alright. Drink up and I’ll walk you back to Gryffindor Tower once you feel a bit better.”

“Are you going to tell them about Dexter and Willmott?” she asked abruptly. “Why did you compare them to me? Because that’s why they came after me in the library that day.”

Lupin looked guilty as he leaned on the windowsill. “They both have terrible work ethics, for a sixth year and a seventh year. Willmott is failing Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Dexter is lazy. Since I made that admittedly stupid comparison, they have started trying harder.”

“Wow, they  _ really _ do hate being compared to a disgusting little half-blood, don’t they?” Violet quipped.

“Violet…”

“I might as well own it.” She shrugged, drinking more of the hot chocolate. She didn’t notice how Lupin was looking at her sadly, as if he himself was upset that she had resigned to accepting herself to be referred to in that way.

The time passed in silence after that; companionably, as if they were further beginning to understand each other the more they actually tried to talk and spend time with each other. It was a shame that it had to occur while Lupin was a teacher, thus making things more stilted than they needed to be. Eventually Violet finished her hot chocolate and he escorted her back to Gryffindor Tower and wished her luck with her final exam, which happened to be Divination.

Violet said nothing to her friends about the nightmare nor the middle of the night trip to see Lupin about it as it wasn’t exactly relevant. They were all far too preoccupied with their final exam: while Violet and the boys waited in the North Tower to be called in for whatever the hell their Divination practical was going to be, Hermione was off elsewhere doing her Muggle Studies exam.

Professor Trelawney was calling them into her classroom one by one in alphabetical order by their surnames. As luck would have it, that meant Violet went before Harry and Ron; she was also more inclined to tell them what was going to happen in the exam. Nobody else before them wanted to say anything, especially not Neville.

If she had put in more effort, Violet would have definitely been getting Outstandings in Divination throughout the year. Only, she had wanted a throwaway subject to take, so flipped back and forth between Exceeds Expectations and Acceptable in terms of her grades.

She certainly hadn’t been expecting the exam to be a crystal ball, that was for certain. Trelawney was rather anticipating in nature during the exam, and Violet was ready to make up what she saw in the crystal ball until-

“A wolf,” Violet breathed, in shock at herself. “I can see a wolf?”

Trelawney was wringing her hands together. “A wolf? Or perhaps a  _ Were _ wolf?”

“I - maybe. Maybe it’s a Werewolf.”

“Just the one?”

Violet’s gaze flickered up to Trelawney for a moment before back down to the crystal ball. She studied it again. “Yes. Just the one.”

“I see…” The distinct sound of a quill on parchment told Violet that Trelawney was scribbling down a few notes. “Anything else?”

There was, except Violet didn’t want to look at it or believe it. She gulped, her hands beginning to tremble in her lap.

“Yes,” she said stiffly. “It’s changing back into a man. There’s blood all over him…”

She tore her eyes away from the crystal ball and stared down at her lap instead, listening to Trelawney writing away on her parchment once more. She waited with bated breath until she could be dismissed; thankfully, that happened sooner rather than later.

Violet had never hurried out of that classroom so quickly; she wanted to get back to her friends as quickly as possible. She found Harry and Ron still sitting in the same spot as they had been fifteen minutes previously, and she practically fell onto them as she tried to join them.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked.

“What was the exam?” Ron asked at the same time.

“Firstly - no; secondly - you have to look into a crystal ball,” she hissed at them so nobody else would overhear their conversation. “I was fully prepped to make something up but then… I actually saw something.” She shifted uncomfortably, beginning to fiddle with the ends of her hair as she always did when nervous. She stared down at her fidgety fingers, her face growing warm in the realisation that Harry and Ron had their eyes on her and were practically boring into her soul at this point.

They didn’t ask any further questions though, and Violet remained sitting there quietly with her friends until they were of course called into their exam.

Harry came out of his rather flustered and on edge, and he waited rather patiently until Ron was done with his exam before saying what on earth had happened. When they met up with Hermione later on in the afternoon he had to repeat himself much to his own chagrin.

“You think she was referring to Sirius Black?” Hermione asked as they headed up to Gryffindor Tower.

He shrugged. “I mean it seems most likely. What do you think?”

“I think we best be keeping an eye out when we go to see Hagrid this evening,” Violet said quietly.

“Oh god, it’s Buckbeak’s execution!” Hermione gasped. “Of course it had to be on the last day of exams… we’ll have to be careful; Harry you can’t get caught outside after hours!”

“One thing at a time… I’d suggest we worry about Hagrid for now.”


	18. The Shrieking Shack

The four friends were apprehensive that evening as they made their way down to Hagrid’s. It didn’t help that as they passed through the Clocktower Courtyard they saw the executioner sharpening his axe. He smiled grimly at them as they walked past him a little faster down the bridge.

“I can’t believe they’re going to kill Buckbeak, it’s just awful,” Hermione said.

“It just got worse,” Ron replied as they stepped out into the Stone Circle.

Malfoy and his friends sat with binoculars, laughing and talking to themselves. That sight alone made Hermione storm towards them absolutely seething, which only served to amuse Malfoy when he noticed them.

“Ah! Come to see the show?” he goaded, standing up.

“You - you foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach!” Hermione shouted at him, pulling her wand on the boy. He backed against one of the stones whimpering.

“Hermione, no!” Ron called out. “He’s not worth it.”

Hesitant, Hermione lowered her wand and went to turn away to go back to her friends; however, she ended up decking Malfoy right in the face. Harry and Ron started to crack up, impressed with the fact she had just sent the Slytherins running straight back into the castle after that. Even Violet was pretty pleased, and she was usually of the opinion that Malfoy wasn’t worth it.

“That felt good,” Hermione admitted sheepishly.

“Not  _ good _ \- brilliant!” Ron exclaimed.

“Come on, let’s get to Hagrid’s,” Harry said, getting them all back on track.

They carried on down to Hagrid’s Hut, where Buckbeak was kept on a chain among the pumpkin patch Hagrid kept.

While speaking to the giant over some tea, they did insist on staying with him but Hagrid wouldn’t have it as Dumbledore would be coming anyway, and none of them should have been out of the castle after hours.

Interestingly enough, Scabbers was still alive. Hagrid had found him and handed him back to Ron who was overjoyed to have his rat back.

“Finally…” Violet muttered to Harry. “They’ll shut up about all this now.”

He chuckled and went to say something, but was interrupted by the fact something smashed on the table. Hermione went to pick up a small pebble that had been the perpetrator of breaking the sugar bowl.

A moment later, a rock hit Harry on the back of the head prompting him to turn towards the window. Dumbledore, the Minister of Magic, and the executioner were all heading towards the Hut.

It had been a fleeting visit for the teens, but Hagrid appreciated it all the same as he ushered them out the back door. They hid behind the pumpkins until it was safe for them to actually run back up to the castle.

The four of them stood at the edge of the Stone Circle, watching as Buckbeak was executed; if they couldn’t be with Hagrid, they would at least try and stay nearby for as long as possible. The thud of the axe coming down echoed through the grounds and Hermione clung onto Ron, crying. A rather stony expression on her face as she tried to hold in tears, Violet slipped her hand into Harry’s.

“I can’t believe it,” she said.

“I know…” Harry replied.

“SCABBERS!” Ron suddenly cried out.

The other three looked at him to see his finding was bleeding and that Scabbers was running away as fast as he could. Obviously - once over the initial shock - Ron bolted after his pet rat with his friends not far behind.

The boy managed to grab his rat in the end, only-

“Harry… isn’t that the Whomping Willow?” Violet queried when seeing how close Ron was to the dangerous tree.

“Ron, get away from there!” Harry shouted at his friend.

Except the other boy was more concerned by something else.

“Harry, look behind you - run! It’s the Grim!”

The three teens turned to see a great, black, snarling dog. It charged towards them and leaped as high as it could over them, making its way towards Ron. It grabbed onto his leg and pulled him towards the base of the Whomping Willow.

Harry vaulted forward and landed flat on the ground in an attempt to try and grab Ron but it was too late - he was dragged into the depths of the tree.

As Hermione and Violet joined Harry to help him up, a tree branch whacked them all backwards.

They dusted themselves off and tried to make their way towards it again, only for the branches to come down between them. Hermione dived to one side with Violet, while Harry dived to the other. On recovering, another branch came swinging down to whack them out of the way.

Hermione managed to duck, but - in a vain attempt to pull him down with her - Violet was walloped upside the head, the force of it knocking both her and Harry further away from Hermione. His glasses went flying off his face, and Violet was half conscious as she tried to help him look for them.

Screaming from overhead told the pair of them that Hermione was up in the air clinging to one of the branches as she was flung around.

Meanwhile, the whole trunk of the tree came hurtling down towards Harry and Violet, where he managed to get the both of them out of harm’s way and not crushed. A few moments later, Violet handed him his glasses and he put them, helping her up after. She was wobbly so held onto him once they were back on their own two feet, which was when Hermione called out for them and grabbed onto Harry’s shirt.

Now all three of them were airborne.

Thankfully that didn’t last long as soon enough Hermione had let go of Harry’s shirt so that he and Violet went falling through the air and tumbling down the hole at the base of the Whomping Willow, roughly bumping into each other in the process. They lay in a heap on the ground inside the tree, unable to get up as Hermione shortly followed thereafter.

The three of them lay there groaning as they attempted to recover.

Hermione was the first to get up and help Harry. The pair of them got Violet to her feet; she looked rather put out by the fact she had been the bottom of the pile.

“I am… really sorry,” Hermione told her. She waved it off, wincing as she gently rubbed the side of her head. There was a lovely lump forming from where the tree had hit her.

“Where do you think this goes?” Violet then asked about the tunnel they were in.

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, as the three of them started walking. “I have a hunch - I just hope I’m wrong.”

A few minutes later they came up into the ground floor of a dilapidated house that creaked with every step they took. There was a fresh blood stain on the floor that they cautiously followed up the stairs.

“We’re in the Shrieking Shack, aren’t we?” Hermione whispered. Harry nodded and allowed both his friends to hook an arm around each one of his. They stuck close together until they got to the landing where they saw Ron on a mattress in the corner of the room clinging onto his very wriggly rat.

“Ron! Are you okay?” Hermione asked as the three of them let go of each other while rushing over to him.

“It’s - it’s a trap,  _ he’s _ the dog, he’s an Animagus!” Ron was fretting and pointing over to the other side of the room.

They all turned to see where he was pointing.

Out from the shadows stepped a man with a gaunt and waxy face, his black hair all tangled in a matted mess, his prison robes in tatters.

Sirius Black.

Hermione and Violet instinctively stepped in front of Harry.

“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Only one will die tonight,” Black said in a hoarse voice.

“Then it’ll be you!” Harry charged out from between Hermione and Violet to tackle Black to the ground and train his wand on him. All that served to do was make the escaped prisoner laugh and goad Harry about killing him.

Something unexpected happened after that.

Harry was disarmed and his wand went flying.

Everyone looked towards the door to see Lupin picking Harry’s wand off the floor.

“Well, well, Sirius, looking rather ragged aren’t we?” he asked the man on the ground, wand pointed at him at all times. Harry got up and backed away towards Hermione and Violet. “Finally, the flesh reflects the madness within.”

“You’d know all about the madness within wouldn’t you, Remus?” Black chuckled.

Lupin lowered his wand and helped Black off the ground before embracing him. As they had a hushed conversation, Violet’s expression was stony. She glanced at Harry who looked as equally annoyed as she did.

“We were right,” she muttered.

“What do you mean, you were right?” Black asked her. The two men had broken apart and were staring at her quizzically. 

Violet swallowed, the lump on her head felt like it was starting to thump as if the situation at hand was making her head injury worse.

“Before Christmas… Harry and I suspected that you two had been friends at school - if you were both friends with James Potter, then… you would have been friends too,” she explained shakily.

“Clever girl, and clever Harry,” Black said, amused, before he frowned at her. “You have a familiar face, why is that?”

“That is Thomas and Genevive Merryworth’s daughter,” Lupin answered. A wave of recognition swept over Black, and he smiled faintly as he became lost in a moment of nostalgia.

“Funny boy, Merryworth. Excellent at Quidditch if I remember correctly - two years above us? And Genevive Oaks… you two were such bookworms together-”

“Stop!” Violet cried out, tears streaming down her face. “Stop it! I asked you once - Uncle Remus - I asked you how could I trust you, and now look where we are! I  _ can’t _ trust you, can I?”

“And I can’t either - not anymore,” Hermione said to him. “I covered for you… he’s a Werewolf!” She told Harry and Ron. “That’s why he’s been missing classes.”

Lupin seemed rather impressed. “How long have you known?”

“Since Professor Snape set the essay - well, that’s when it was confirmed. I started to suspect when I noticed your Boggart was a moon. Violet and I both figured it out at the same time.”

“Well, Hermione, you really are the brightest witch of your age-”

“You  _ knew? _ ” Harry turned to Violet. He sounded as if he was angry with her, and when he realised that was how it came across he shook himself back to sanity a little bit. “You knew he was the thing you feared the most? And you still chose to trust him?” He had simmered down ever so slightly.

Violet was struggling to get an answer out. “I realised you and Hermione were right - I tried to learn to trust him but now…” She turned to Lupin, who clearly knew where her sentence was going because he was pained. “Now I think that was a mistake.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Lupin said. “But maybe you’re not. And we’ll show you why.”

“You’re not doing  _ anything _ ,” Harry said, taking hold of Violet and moving her behind him. She peered at Lupin and Black over his shoulder, almost frightened.

“How noble of you, Harry, but I’m done with that - and talking!” Black exclaimed. “Remus, let’s kill him!”

“Fine,” Lupin said, handing him Harry’s wand. “But Harry has the right to know why.”

“I know why!” Harry said. “You betrayed my parents. You’re the reason they’re dead!” He directed that at Black. Lupin was shaking his head the entire time.

“No, Harry, it wasn’t him who betrayed your parents, it was someone else - some who I thought until recently to be dead!”

“Who was it then?”

“Peter Pettigrew,” Sirius said. “And he’s in this room right now! Come out, come out, Peter! Come out and play!”

As they were all too entranced and gobsmacked and confused by what was going on, nobody noticed Snape sneak to the entrance of the room. What they did notice was him disarm Sirius, sending Harry’s wand flying back towards the teenagers. Snape kept his wand pointed at Sirius from there on out.

“I’m sorry - I’m sorry but I need to know…” Violet spoke up from behind Harry, stepping around him cautiously. “Professor Snape, how did you know where we all were? And isn’t Peter Pettigrew dead? How can he be here?”

“I was on my way to hand off some Wolfsbane to dear old  _ Moony _ here,” Snape sneered in response. “And a certain  _ map _ was lying open on his desk. I should have known…”

At this, Violet sighed. “Maybe we should have asked for the map back.”

“Ha! I knew that Potter knew it was a map,” Snape said gleefully. “Although, Miss Merryworth, I’m surprised you’re even intrigued by it… Regardless - I did hope I’d be the one to catch Black…” He turned to Lupin. “I told Dumbledore you were helping an old friend into the castle…”

While the adults were preoccupied, Violet pulled Harry aside to the opposite corner of the room where they wouldn’t be overhead.

“What?” he hissed.

“I’m not going to lie - this might be the concussion talking - but I’m curious about Pettigrew, so for once I’m going to do something incredibly-”

“Stupid?”

“Gryffindor, was the word I was going to choose.”

Despite everything going on, he shot her a half smile. “Alright. I’ll admit I’m curious to know more too.”

Violet gave him a curt nod and slowly approached the trio of adults with her wand raised at Black.

“Violet…” Lupin warned her.

“Even your  _ niece _ knows what’s right-” Snape started, but he was abruptly cut off.

“ _ Depulso! _ ” Violet changed her aim to Snape at the last second and sent him flying across the room, smashing into the four poster bed and the wall. Everyone was shocked to silence by her action, and she pocketed her wand rather sheepishly.

“That - that wasn’t a Gryffindor thing to do!” Harry exclaimed. “That  _ was _ stupid! You could have disarmed him or - or something!”

Black was grinning madly at her, a strange youthfulness coming back to his face. “Oh no, that was both stupid  _ and _ Gryffindor.”

The teenagers looked at Black oddly; the smile dropped from his face pretty quickly after that.

Lupin, on the other hand, was pinching the bridge of his nose and clearly stressed. “Your parents are going to have a field day with this one…”

“Back to the point at hand - Peter Pettigrew?” Violet then said.

“He was at school with us and we thought he was our friend,” Lupin explained. “The map - Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs - that was  _ us. _ We created that! I earned the nickname Moony due to my affliction… Pettigrew was Wormtail as he was able to transform into a rat, Sirius is Padfoot - which you all know why - and James. James could turn into a stag. Hence the name Prongs. We called ourselves the Marauders.”

“And then you,” Harry pointed at Black, “killed Pettigrew.”

“No - no, Black didn’t kill Pettigrew,” Lupin insisted. “I thought so too until you mentioned seeing Pettigrew on the map!”

“The map was lying then!”

“The map  _ never _ lies!” Black said. “Pettigrew’s alive - and he’s right there!” He pointed over at Ron, who was affronted.

“Me?! He’s mental!”

Black rolled his eyes. “Not you - your rat!”

“Scabbers? He’s been in my family for-”

“Twelve years? Curiously long life for a common garden rat…”

Even Harry insisted that Ron handed over Scabbers, his curiosity about the truth within Black and Lupin’s statements becoming more and more obvious as the minutes wore on. Eventually, Black took the rat from Ron and it tried to escape, but not before he and Lupin forced it to turn back into a man.

The man had clearly been a rat for so long, that he was constantly hunched over and sniffling - even his two front teeth were rat-like in look and size, although Violet realised they had probably been like that his whole life. Her head was spinning while more revelations unfolded, but that may have just been the concussion. Black had been innocent the entire time - Pettigrew practically admitted to handing over the Potters to You-Know-Who.

She wondered what sort of craziness she had gotten herself involved in by becoming friends with Harry, but maybe it was worth it. He was about to save an innocent man from something terrible, after all. Violet could see some kind of understanding forming between Harry and Black, especially after making the decision to hand Pettigrew over to the Dementors.

Violet caught Harry’s eye when the decision was made. She gave him a singular nod, and he smiled at her: in that moment  _ they _ had a moment of understanding, as if Harry knew she was in it for the long haul now.


	19. The Time Turner

_ “You know the rules, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said. “You must not be seen. You would do well to return before the last chime. If not, the consequences are too ghastly to discuss. Three turns should do it.” He began to head towards the doors of the hospital wing. “And if you succeed, more than one innocent life could be spared…” _

_ He was beginning to close the doors, when another thought struck him. _

_ “And, to be quite plain, you will find Miss Merryworth out there tonight. She won’t be too surprised to see you either, I should think. And when in doubt, I find retracing my steps to be a wise choice.” _

_ Dumbledore closed the doors, leaving the teenagers in stunned silence. Harry and Ron were far more confused than Hermione was. _

_ “What the bloody hell was that all about?” Ron asked. _

_ “And what did he mean Violet wouldn’t be surprised…?” Harry asked. _

_ Hermione resisted rolling her eyes as she pulled the Time Turner out from her shirt. _

* * *

“All those times when you and my parents thought I wasn’t listening over the summer… you were all talking about Sirius, weren’t you?” Violet asked Lupin as the rest of them started to filter down into the tunnel. The teacher had Pettigrew bound by ropes and was to be assisted by Violet in leading him through the tunnel back to Hogwarts.

Harry and Sirius had been the first to go down, supporting Ron on his injured leg. Hermione did linger to wait for Violet and Lupin, except they told her to go.

“Yes,” Lupin answered, pulling Pettigrew down into the tunnel after Violet had gone into it herself. “We were trying to protect you from what we thought the truth was. Clearly… all three of us were mistaken.”

“My parents are going to have a field day with this one,” she mused, repeating Lupin’s earlier statement and throwing a smirk at him. She’d never done that before, and strangely enough it touched him.

“You know, I can’t tell if your mother would be amused or disappointed at the fact you used a charm like that… we’re going to have a  _ lot _ to catch your parents up on this summer…”

Violet winced when he said that. She’d momentarily forgotten that of course she was going to have to inform her parents of all the goings on in her life this year. After all, it had been the first school year she’d had friends. Her sudden silence made Lupin laugh.

“I’ll stand your corner, sweet girl, don’t worry,” he paused. “Between you and me, I may have done the same if I were in your position.”

“I take it you didn’t get on well with Snape at school…?”

“Definitely not. Admittedly it was James and Sirius who terrorised him the most,” Lupin mused. “Although I did have my part to play in it from time to time. They were pretty hard to stop, unfortunately.”

“I can’t believe you were part of a group of troublemakers!” Violet said.

Lupin laughed. “And I can’t believe you’re part of one either.”

She flushed at that. “Hey, they don’t do these things on purpose, you know. They - we - don’t terrorise other students! We just… get caught in unfortunate situations?”

“Unfortunate situations is putting it lightly, I think…” Lupin glanced back at Pettigrew.

They came to the head of the tunnel and emerged out onto the grounds at the base of the Whomping Willow. Violet frowned when she realised how still it was, no flailing branches in sight as she noticed Hermione and Ron sitting at the base of it quite comfortably.

“Why isn’t it attacking?”

“There’s a knot,” Lupin said, pointing next to her feet. “If you touch that, it’ll keep the tree calm.”

She nodded in acknowledgement, which was when Pettigrew decided to throw himself at Ron’s feet.

“Get away from him!” Violet hissed at Pettigrew, grabbing him and trying her best to pull him away from Ron. Lupin took over and shoved him to the ground, his wand trained on him at all times. The teacher appeared shocked at Violet’s outburst, and she rolled her eyes. “I’m allowed to be angry at a mass murderer trying to grovel at my friend’s feet…”

“You know, I have always questioned your placement in Gryffindor; very much unlike your parents in that-“ Lupin tensed up and glanced to his left, Violet following his eyeline.

A full moon had risen.

“Uncle Remus?” Violet squeaked before he started to shake and drop his wand. She stood completely frozen to the spot, mere metres away from her professor - her  _ uncle _ was about to transform into a Werewolf. Hermione called for Harry, and he and Sirius came running back over. In that moment of kerfuffle, Pettigrew transformed back into a rat and disappeared.

As Sirius held onto Lupin, trying his best to soothe him and remind him of who he was, Violet stood there transfixed with horror. She was unable to move, all she could do was watch as her uncle yelled in pain as his body grew taller, his clothes began to tear, and his human nails were replaced by ones that could do some serious damage.

She was brought out of her stupor by Harry taking hold of her sleeve and pulling her back towards him, Ron and Hermione. They stayed together as a group and watched as the now werewolf Lupin threw Sirius to one side.

Violet gripped Harry’s hand incredibly tightly as Hermione took a step forward and tried to see if she could get some recognition out of the werewolf. Instead it howled, and Ron just about managed to pull Hermione back to their group.

The werewolf started to come towards them, but then something unlikely happened: Snape came out of the base of the Whomping Willow and made an immediate beeline for Violet.

“You are  _ done  _ for, Merrywo-”

A snarl had Snape turn round and instinctively guard the teens from the dangerous animal as it went to strike.

In the moment that the werewolf went to strike, Violet - for some reason she was uncertain of - pushed Snape out of the way, causing their group to break and fall to the ground as she felt its claws scrape into her shoulder.

The pain was searing and she counted herself lucky that the creature had managed to miss her neck with the way it had hurt her. The momentum from the strike caused Violet to lose her footing and fall, where she rolled into the plants behind and kept rolling and rolling down the hill away from her friends and teacher, all of whom were calling out for her.

The sudden jerking movement down the slope didn’t help with the pain in her arm, but eventually she slowed to a stop closer to the edge of the forest. Violet lay there for a few moments, disoriented, and keeping her left arm curled against her chest. Her heart was beating fairly quickly, and Violet knew she was beginning to run on adrenaline. Her jumper was in tatters, and she had reason to believe that helped in the injury not being as bad as it could have been.

“Violet?” A voice hissed from close by. She awkwardly rolled onto her current good side to see Harry was lying on his stomach among the bushes next to her.

She sighed in relief. “Oh thank goodness… you’ll have to catch me up.”

He frowned at her; that was not quite the reaction he was expecting from someone who was in the midst of bleeding out.

“Er, yeah, come on…” Harry got up and remained crouched, helping Violet to do the same. From there, they headed to the treeline where Hermione was hidden and watching the events unfold. Her eyes widened when she saw the state that Violet was in, after the other two came out of their crouched position and stood up properly.

“You look-”

“Don’t,” Violet said softly.

Hermione glanced back up to the Whomping Willow, where past-Harry was now chasing after the werewolf and Padfoot.

“We should probably-”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, and the three of them hurried along the treeline as best as they could, keeping a watchful eye on past-Harry at all times.

Past-Harry threw a rock at the werewolf, which then decided to go for him. Hermione cupped her hands around her mouth and let out a howl.

“Hermione - are you joking?!” Violet screeched at her. “What are you doing?”

“Saving Harry’s life!”

She howled once more, and the werewolf started bounding towards them.

“Great, now he’s coming for us…” Harry said, grabbing the two of them and running deeper into the forest.

“Yeah, I didn’t think about that…”

Violet was struggling to keep up with them, and her upper body and left arm were both completely soaked in blood. She was starting to shake - with fear or the fact she was losing blood - and it made running all the more difficult.

The three of them hid behind the trunk of a large tree, all too aware of the fact that the werewolf could easily sniff them out, and Violet’s current state wasn’t going to help with that. Harry moved his hand to cover Violet’s mouth when he noticed her teeth chattering from the amount she was trembling.

Hearing twigs snap to the right of them, they moved around the tree in an attempt to avoid the werewolf. Eventually they heard its footsteps move further away from them, and the three friends stepped out from behind the tree. Harry lowered his hand from her mouth.

Only, they weren’t as safe as they thought.

Harry pulled the girls close to him and averted his eyes as it looked like the werewolf was about to come and strike them, when Buckbeak jumped out of nowhere in front of them and fended it off. The Hippogriff was fine, and they were relatively safe again.

At that point, Violet sagged against Harry. He helped her sit down on the ground.

“Are you-”

“No!” she snapped, clutching her shoulder. “Sorry…”

“It’s fine… but we can’t - we can’t take you to the Hospital Wing just yet.”

“I know. I’ll - I’ll out hold till then.” She smiled weakly at him, and both Harry and Hermione tried to ignore the fact that she was steadily growing pale in the face.

That was when Buckbeak came a little closer to the three of them and dropped to the ground besides Violet, unfurling one of his wings. She glanced at the Hippogriff curiously, but then Harry was quickly helping her sit on it. Buckbeak stood up straight, and admittedly she felt better not having to be on her own two feet.

“You managed to save him?” she directed the question at Hermione.

“Dumbledore said more than one life could be spared,” the other girl replied.

“Thank you,” she muttered at Buckbeak, stroking the soft feathers in front of her. Oddly enough she wasn’t frightened. She’d never been frightened of Buckbeak, only cautious. She didn’t have time to be cautious right now, though.

A cold chill swept over them and the three friends looked up to see a swarm of Dementors heading towards the Black Lake.

While Harry and Hermione ran ahead, Buckbeak carefully trotted behind until they emerged from the trees to see that across the lake, past-Harry and Sirius were having the life drained from them. Dementor after Dementor swept down upon them, and Violet watched on in horror. So this was what she had missed. This was what had happened to her friends before they turned back time. She’d probably ask for more details later.

She was proud of Harry when he produced one of the most powerful Patronuses for a thirteen year old. It cleared the Dementors in the form of a stag. She wondered if one day maybe he would teach her about casting one; it was a fascinating piece of magic…

They retreated back into the trees again and watched as past-Harry and Sirius were taken away by Snape on floating stretchers.

“I - I can’t believe that, Harry!” Hermione was in shock. “A fully corporeal Patronus… that’s powerful. How did you-”

“I’ll explain another time. How long have we got?” Harry asked her.

“We have about forty five minutes before we have to be back in the Hospital Wing.”

“Let’s go.”

He took hold of the chains around Buckbeak and they retraced the path they had gone along through the trees to get back into full view of Hogwarts and the Whomping Willow. Violet was really struggling now, as the adrenaline in her system was beginning to wear off.

“I don’t think I can last another forty five minutes,” Violet said. She could feel her brain fading to something fuzzy and black, until…

They were flying through the air. Harry’s arms were around her waist clutching the chains in front of her. She was leaning back against him, and the confusion on her face was clear as day.

“We had to make do, sorry,” he said to her when he noticed she was conscious.

At this point they were flying towards the Clocktower Courtyard and landed there shortly after. Both Sirius and Harry helped Violet off of Buckbeak, where she was just about steady enough on her own two feet.

“Are you going to be alright?” Sirius asked her, worried. “Remus’ll be very…”

“I know. I’ll be fine. I’ll talk him down,” Violet replied, throwing her good arm around Hermione, who then took most of her weight.

“Harry - Hermione, I’m grateful to the both of you,” Sirius said to the other teens.

“I want to go with you,” Harry told him.

“One day perhaps…” Sirius then led him off around the corner to privately speak to him.

“I need to sleep…” Violet murmured to Hermione.

“You need Madam Pomfrey. Your jumper’s soaked!”

Violet glanced down at herself. “Yes, well, that’ll happen when you save your awful Potions professor from your werewolf uncle…”

“Are you made at Lupin? For what happened?”

“No. Never. It wasn’t his fault. He was trying to look out for us tonight by coming after us, when he forgot his Wolfsbane. I think I owe him.”

Hermione looked pointedly at the gashes across Violet’s shoulder and chest.

“Fine. Maybe I don’t owe him.”

At this point, Sirius and Harry joined them again.

“You really are the brightest witch of your age,” Sirius told Hermione as he climbed onto Buckbeak. He then shot Violet a curious look. “And you… you’re more of a strong silent type, aren’t you? Give Snape some quiet hell.”

A statement and request like those rendered Violet uncertain of how to respond, so all she did was offer Sirius a curt nod with a weak smirk. He rattled the chains on Buckbeak and the Hippogriff galloped off before taking flight; they flew up high into the sky, further and further away until they were nothing but a speck against the full moon.

The clock started to chime for midnight, so with Harry helping Hermione with Violet, they got up to the Hospital Wing as fast as they could. They encountered Dumbledore who appeared to be in denial about the fact they did anything, but rather pleased they’d retrieved Violet.

The moment they got back into the Hospital Wing, Ron went into one: about how they had just randomly reappeared with Violet, how he’d been talking to them right in front of his bed… Harry and Hermione ignored it for a moment as they got Violet to lie down on the bed next to Ron’s.

“Oh, Ronald… how can anybody be in two places at once?” Violet chuckled with her friends before she passed out for the second time that night.


	20. Third Year End

Violet awoke in the hospital wing all cleaned up and bandaged, her arm in a sling at that too. Her whole body ached, but the moment Madame Pomfrey caught wind of the fact she was awake, she came over with a potion that at least eased the ache and was happy to send the girl on her way.

She glanced around the Hospital Wing to find the other beds empty.

A fresh pair of clothes were folded up on the chair next to her bed, so Violet got dressed. 

She decided to take a slow walk down to the Great Hall for lunch, only to hear strange whispers about the previous night.

_ “Did you hear? Professor Lupin’s a werewolf…” _

_ “Isn’t that Merryworth girl his niece?” _

_ “I heard a werewolf attacked four students and Professor Snape…” _

_ “Merryworth knew him, you think she knew about this too?” _

Looking at her feet as she moved around the castle, Violet changed course and decided to head to Lupin’s office. Her face was burning red and tears stang her eyes as she powerwalked to the third floor, so lost in her own world that she didn’t realise someone was calling after her.

“Violet - hey!” Harry grabbed her uninjured arm, pulling her out of her thoughts. He frowned when seeing her face. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head and sniffed. “The whole school knows about last night! And - and about me… and him.” Her shoulders slumped and Harry let go of her arm so that he could give her hand a gentle squeeze instead.

“I’m sorry, Violet,” he said sincerely. “I don’t think any of them would make fun of you for it though - he was the coolest teacher we’ve had.”

There was the ghost of a half smile on his face which widened into a true one when she appeared to cheer up.

“Yeah. Even I have to admit he was…”

“But…” Harry turned somber. “He’s already left - well, he’s on his way out - if we run we might be able to catch him in the Entrance Hall?”

Violet’s eyes widened and she pulled Harry into a run back down the staircase. Her heart had leapt into her throat and tears were falling down her face. She ignored them and didn’t stop running until they caught sight of Lupin making his way out of the Entrance Hall and into the main courtyard. He had his cane with him, something that Violet had rarely ever seen him with; she realised that the pattern of us was after full moons.

Whatever possessed her to yell what she did to him, she would never know.

Quite frankly, she didn’t care that other students heard.

“Uncle Remus!” she shouted across the courtyard, letting go of Harry and running over to him. Lupin turned around curiously to see her, only for his jaw to drop when he saw that she was injured.

Violet skidded to a halt in front of him, not entirely sure what to do next.

Then she hugged him. Awkwardly, with one functioning arm.

The first hug they had, and it took them both by surprise.

“You were going to leave without saying a word to me,” she said, her face squished against him.

Lupin was tentative in putting an arm around Violet, but he did so all the same and sighed.

“After last night… it seemed best.”

“It wasn’t you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“That doesn’t matter - I was afraid of you hating me even more.”

She pulled back from him and wiped her eyes. “I never hated you.”

He raised an questioning eyebrow, and Violet stared at her feet as she spoke.

“It was more… resentment. I knew we weren’t related at all so I didn’t understand why I had to call you uncle. But then I found out about how mum’s pure blood side of the family really hated Muggle borns and basically thought I was the worst possible thing to exist.” Violet paused. “You can’t choose your family most of the time - sometimes you can - and I didn’t get to choose you either. It always felt like a vain attempt at giving me a relative.”

Lupin was quiet as he digested her words, wanting to be thoughtful about what he said; he didn’t need to think too hard for that.

“I understand where you’re coming from. I think if I were part of a family where half of it had a myriad of issues surrounding blood purity, I would quite possibly be the same,” he said to her. “I will say one thing, and that is you used to be quite taken with me before you could talk.”

She looked up at him and frowned. “Was I?”

“For some time, yes…” He chewed on his lip for a moment. “You asked your mother questions the first moment you could.”

“Yes… that was how I learned we weren’t actually related. That you were just a friend of theirs. I’m sorry - that must have… when I rejected you that must have hurt.”

“It did. But your parents still tried their best to get you to like me. And look where we are now.” He awkwardly patted her on the cheek.

“I’ll admit, you have definitely grown on me this past year…” she said sheepishly. 

He gave her a tired smile. “I know. For that, I’m grateful.”

“You were the best,” Violet told him. “And I’m not just saying that. Promise.”

“Thank you.” 

“Also… um, I’ll tell mum and dad about this.” She gestured at her arm. “I don’t want them to be angry with you.”

“We’ll tell them together. Now. Off you go. I’m sure you have much better things to be doing. I’ll see you over the summer.”

With that, he turned and carried on walking, Violet watching him with a forlorn expression for a few moments. A few extra tears dripped down her cheeks and she wiped them away as she walked back over to Harry, who was sitting on a bench. He jumped immediately.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“He gave me back the Map,” he then told her as they started to make their way back inside the castle.

Violet’s face lit up at that, oddly enough. “Really?”

“Something about not feeling guilty doing it because he’s not my teacher anymore.” Harry shrugged. “You look way too pleased about that.”

“It’s fun,” Violet admitted. “Besides, out of the seven secret passageways out of Hogwarts, you’ve used two so far. There’s still five more to use!”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realise you liked trouble.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” she said. “I stepped out of my comfort zone a little bit, I suppose. Is this what it’s like with you three every year?”

“Apparently. Is that a problem?”

“As long as I don’t get attacked by a werewolf again, I can’t see it being a problem. Besides, an extra pair of eyes is always good.”

Harry considered that for a moment. “Yeah, you notice everything. Kind of weird sometimes though.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Harry.” After that she playfully shoved him on the shoulder and he laughed, going to ruffle her already messy hair. Violet scowled at him as she patted it back into place, mentally telling herself to get Hermione to help her plait it later on.

As they reached the Great Hall, a bunch of Gryffindors came running up to them, surrounding the pair and pretty much herded them to where Ron and Hermione were sitting at the table.

Oddly enough, they were there not for Harry, but for  _ Violet. _

“Merryworth!” Seamus Finnigan was practically boiling over with excitement. “Is it true?”

“That Professor Lupin is your uncle?” Dean Thomas elaborated.

Violet was stunned. She wasn’t expecting them to be so… happy.

“Um - well, that’s just what I have to call him. He’s a friend of my parents’...”

“Did you know he was a Werewolf?” Parvati Patil piped up once Harry and Violet had settled down at the table with everyone.

Violet shook her head. “No, I didn’t. Not until the cover lesson with Snape, I sort of figured it out…” She looked around all her peers. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

“He must be the  _ best _ person to have as an uncle - blood or not,” Dean commented. Violet winced at that, knowing he was right. Lupin had definitely been the best, not that she’d seen it until this year due to her own stubbornness.

“We don’t really care that he’s a Werewolf,” Seamus said. “He didn’t exactly hurt any of us this year, why would we care?”

“It’s hardly his fault,” Lavender Brown said.

“Gotta say though, Merryworth, he was the  _ coolest _ Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had,” Seamus then added.

She had no idea what to say. She’d never received this much attention from her classmates before, and she didn’t quite know what to say about the stream of compliments of having someone like Lupin in her life. She felt a great rush of pride towards the man. Violet glanced at Harry briefly to see he was giving her an encouraging smile.

She then smiled at Seamus; a smile which slowly turned into a grin.

“Yeah. I guess he was.”

* * *

A week after the “Shrieking Shack incident” as Violet had dubbed it, the four friends found themselves in a compartment of their own, on a train back to London so they could start their summer holidays. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been engaging in cheerful chatter about goodness knows what for the start of their journey home, whereas Violet was resting her head against the window staring at the landscapes that rushed by.

Truth be told, she was incredibly nervous about seeing her parents. Her arm was still in the sling and would be for the next couple of weeks, and for once she was genuinely worried about getting into trouble. She was worried about what they might say about Lupin when they found out what he’d done. She’d had one or two nightmares about the accidental attack, but it hadn’t been anything too worrisome, thankfully, and she expected it might last a month or so before her mind settled down properly about the incident.

At least she had passed her exams with flying colours and that was a good bonus.

As if he were reading her mind, Harry poked her in the thigh with his foot from the opposite end of the seat. She straightened up and looked at him, forcing a brief smile onto her face.

“Worrying about it won’t help,” he said.

“I know,” she muttered glumly. “But… I don’t know…”

“The fact you and Lupin actually get on now will definitely distract your parents from what happened last week,” Hermione told her. “They’ll know it was an accident!”

“There’s that, I guess, but I’ve never broken a school rule in my life!” Violet’s voice raised in pitch and it made the boys laugh while Hermione looked at him sympathetically. Harry sat up properly and scooted over to sit closer to her.

“You liked it though,” he said teasingly. “Don’t pretend you didn’t just because you’re worried about what your parents are gonna say!”

“I know, I know…” she sighed.

“Hey Vi, your dad played Quidditch didn’t he?” Ron changed the subject, and she nodded. “Are you going to the Quidditch World Cup this summer? If you are - we’ll see you there! Dad usually gets tickets… Harry, Hermione - you should come too!”

Violet groaned. “I forgot about that - he got tickets  _ ages _ ago…”

“Quidditch World Cup sounds  _ excellent _ ,” Harry said. “It’ll get me out of Little Whinging and the Dursleys’ll love that…”

“Sure, sounds fun!” Hermione beamed.

The idea of having summer plans with her friends lifted Violet’s spirits considerably.

“Oh, Harry, still got an open offer for you to escape to Guildford for a bit if you can?”

“Escape to Guildford?” Ron frowned.

“That’s where I live - it’s not too far from Little Whinging, so it’s easy for Harry to get on a Muggle train there - inexpensive too. Enough about that… Harry, you never said about the Patronus? How did you manage to conjure one that powerful?”

“Oh yeah!” He was quite excited to finally talk about that. “The first time I saw it happen, I thought it was my dad. I thought somehow he had come back… but that moment I was  _ watching _ myself die, I realised it had been me all along! So I knew I could do it. Does that make sense?”

“Sort of,” Violet replied. “The only way to describe that is a Bootstrap Paradox. Or a self-fulfilling prophecy, if you prefer.”

That partially helped Ron and Hermione understand.

“Also, why were you so  _ calm _ when you saw me in the bushes?” Harry asked Violet in turn.

“I knew about the Time Turner from the start.”

“And you didn’t say anything?!” Ron was affronted.

“Alright, let me rephrase: I found out about the Time Turner by accident. It was never my secret to tell, was it? I’ve known since the first Care of Magical Creatures lesson of the year.”

“Bloody hell…” Ron was shaking his head. “You girls and your secrets…”

“It helps that I’m less of a talker, more of a listener too,” Violet reminded him. “You’ll all keep in touch over the summer, won’t you?”

“What sort of question is that?” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Of course we will, Violet.”

“Good.”

After that they played a few rounds of Exploding Snap and Violet disappeared behind a book for some time. Eventually their afternoon was interrupted by a tiny brown owl flying frantically alongside their window: upon letting it in, Harry found he had a letter from Sirius explaining that he was in hiding, that he had bought the Firebolt for Harry, that Ron could keep the tiny owl, and he’d attached a permission slip for Hogsmeade.

The rest of the train journey flew by in better spirits for the rest of them after that.

When they arrived back at platform nine and three quarters, Harry assisted Violet with her things considering she only had one working arm. They ended up heading through the barrier back to King’s Cross together.

Lo and behold, her parents were there with Lupin.

“You know those people next to your parents and Lupin?” Harry whispered to her as they approached.

“Yeah?”

“That’s my aunt and uncle.”

So it was. The Dursleys really didn’t seem happy when they realised they were standing next to Violet’s family either.

“Oh darling, what happened to you?” Thomas Merryworth fussed over his daughter when she finally reached them. He took hold of her trolley immediately after giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“I think that’s a conversation for when we’re home…” she admitted.

“See you at the World Cup, yeah?!” Ron called over to them as he walked past with his family.

“Definitely!” Violet replied. “Thanks for the jumper as well, Mrs Weasley!”

Mrs Weasley waved it off, and Violet turned back to her parents and Lupin.

“My friends are a group of troublemakers, I suppose,” she said, loudly enough for Harry to hear. She looked over at him to see he was smirking, and that his aunt and uncle weren’t entirely pleased about that. “But they’re great. Promise.”

“I taught the four of them for a year. She’s not wrong, you know,” Lupin said. He seemed to be a lot healthier than he was last week.

“Well, we best be off then, and you can tell us all about how you hurt your arm…” Genevive said.

Violet nodded, quickly stepping over to Harry and giving him a one armed hug.

“See you for uhh...  _ The Great Escape _ ?” she asked him with a knowing look.

He glanced between her and his now suspicious relatives. “Sure thing. I’ll let you know when. If not… World Cup?”

“World Cup it is. Have an… well, have an alright summer, Harry?”

He laughed. “You too. And don’t worry about telling them what happened, yeah?”

“I’ll try not to.”

With that, she turned on her heel and headed back over to her parents and they walked towards the exit of King’s Cross Station. She had a light frown on her face, which did not go unnoticed by Genevive.

“What’s wrong, Violet?” she asked her daughter.

“Not that I don’t mind, but… why  _ is _ Remus here?”

Thomas and Genevive both faltered for a moment.

“I think that’s a conversation for when we’re home…” Genevive repeated Violet’s earlier statement, only serving to make the girl more curious. “Or perhaps on the way. Someone may have let something slip about a Banishing Charm being used on a professor…”

Violet looked at Lupin who immediately shoved his hands in his pockets, pretending not to know what Genevive was talking about.

“It was the most Gryffindor thing I’ve ever done!” She tried to defend herself proudly.

“Maybe it was, but perhaps it was also rather stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's PoA done! I have 4 summer of 1994 chapters in the works (one of which includes the Quidditch World Cup) and then we can get into fourth year! More obvious canon changes happen there, and I get to add in more of my own headcanons revolving around the characters. :)


	21. Summer, 1994: Letters

_ Dear Harry, _

_ Shockingly, I’m still alive. _

_ This letter might be long, but I’ll summarise as best as I can (and I’m sending Ron and Hermione the same thing too). _

_ The journey home was pretty awkward in the end. It turned out Lupin had already let slip to mum and dad that I’d used Depulso on Snape. At first, mum seemed pretty unimpressed but… well, she said I had the guts to do what she never could. Dad wasn’t too happy about it at the time, but he’s fine with it now. Especially when he heard the whole story. _

_ As for the werewolf scratch… I told them that it would have been Snape taking the hit but considering he did try to protect us, I said about how I jumped in front of him. They understood it was an accident that Lupin didn’t have his Wolfsbane Potion that night, but they still weren’t too happy I was the one that got hurt because of it. He feels pretty guilty, but the three of them are glad I’m alright and it was only a scratch. I’ll have a pretty cool scar to show for it! _

_ Finally… Lupin’s moved in. Not sure how I feel about that, but he hasn’t got anywhere else to go, so he’s got the guest room. Mum and dad said they’ll be making him Wolfsbane and are teaching him how to do it as well because they can’t do it all the time. They’re back at work full time, you see, so at least there’s an adult in the house to be around during the week for me, I guess… Lupin’ll just transform in the woods at the back of the house and have a wander there. I’m not allowed outside during full moons now. Actually, I think my parents want to ban me from the woods full stop as a sort of punishment for the Shrieking Shack Incident. They’re mad I was out after hours. _

_ I know it’s only been a week or so, but how’s life back in Little Whinging? I hope your relatives aren’t giving you too much of a hard time. The offer for you to come here still remains open, of course! Let me know if there’s a particular day you think you’ll be able to escape them. _

_ Hope to hear from you soon! _

_ Violet _

_ P.S: If Astra starts rubbing her head against your hand, it means she likes you and wants you to pet her. _

* * *

_ Dear Violet, _

_ That was quite long, but at least everything seems to be alright your end? Scars aren’t all that, I can tell you now… but I think yours might look pretty cool.  _ ~~_ Is it weird to ask how many scars came from that one swipe? _ ~~ _ How is your shoulder by the way? Not hurting too much? _

_ If I can, I’ll get to yours as soon as possible. We’re doing this stupid diet at the moment and Dudley is going mental over it… please send help. I can’t stand eating a bit of grapefruit for breakfast. It’s only been a week and a half! _

_ From, _

_ Harry _

_ P.S: Astra’s a great owl. She was rubbing her head against my hand when I was reading your letter. Hedwig’s taken to her as well. _

* * *

Violet didn’t send a letter when Astra next showed up at Harry’s window.

Instead the owl came with a small parcel of snacks - wizarding and Muggle alike. Harry wrote a quick note back to Violet to say thank you, and was surprised to find that the box that contained the snacks was bigger on the inside.

He thanked Violet’s mother for that as well. There was more in there he could dream of.

* * *

_ Dear Violet, _

_ I’m so, so glad that everything went well with your parents and Lupin! How are you feeling? Is your shoulder getting any better? Have you let Harry and Ron know as well? Despite all that, is your summer going well anyway? I know it’s not been very long, but I had to ask! _

_ My parents and I are having a good summer. They’re happy to let me come along to the World Cup as long as Ron sorts it soon! I’ll see you there. _

_ From, _

_ Hermione _

* * *

_ Dear Vi, _

_ Blimey… that’s a lot to happen in the space of a week! How is the shoulder? Not hurting too much? By the way, if you’ve heard from Harry make sure to send him some food… the Muggles are at it with their weird stuff again. Wish we could just grab him and take him home at the end of every year, but mum said we can’t do that. Dumebledore’s orders or something. I think it’s a load of rubbish! _

_ Dad’s getting our World Cup tickets sorted - your dad has got yours, right? Oh and have you sorted out your tent yet? We’ll need to know where you’re staying. It better not be too far from us, I’m not walking miles and miles just to see you! _

_ From, _

_ Ron _

* * *

_ Harry, _

_ Lupin is beginning to drive me up the wall. _

_ He’s my only source of company during the day while my parents are at work, and it’s not like I can go for a walk in the woods since I’m technically banned… I think he’s trying to make up for what happened last month but it’s not exactly helping and it’s making my bad dreams worse… I wish he wasn’t here, sometimes. I need space. Just for a bit. _

_ Obviously my parents didn’t intend for this to happen, they wanted to help their friend and thought as a bonus it might help me… currently it’s doing the opposite. It’ll be fine, I’m sure. Weekends can’t come quick enough. _

_ From, _

_ Violet _

* * *

_ Violet, _

_ How does the 30th July sound? It’s a few more days away, I know, but I’ll need some time to convince my aunt and uncle to be able to come round… it shouldn’t be too hard. Think that’s a Saturday as well, isn’t it? So your parents’ll be about? Ask them if it’s alright for me to head on over. I’m looking for an out, I really can’t stand it right now… _

_ See you soon? _

_ Harry _

* * *

_ Harry, _

_ Parents are cool with it. See you soon. _

_ Violet _


	22. Summer, 1994: The Great Escape

“So what do your parents do?”

It was a hot day today. The sun was blazing in the perfectly clear blue sky, and the only means of shelter from the heat while outdoors was under the shade of a small tree at the bottom of Violet’s garden. She lazed about on the picnic blanket, lying stretched out with her head stuck in the book, while Harry - who had managed to convince the Dursleys to let him catch a train to Guildford to see his friend - sat upright and leaned against the tree trunk.

Empty plates with bread crumbs were next to Harry’s feet along with two empty glasses. Between the two teens was a large bowl of mixed berries they would occasionally pick from.

“Mum’s an Auror. Dad’s a Healer. They’ve both been part time since I was born, but I think they’re both going back to full time in September,” Violet replied from behind her book. “If you’re allowed to stay for dinner, you’ll meet dad this evening.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t think they really care if I go back there or not.”

Violet peered at her friend over the top of her book with her eyes narrowed. “They really are awful people.”

“Tell me about it,” he murmured, grabbing a fistful of grass and pulling it up from the ground, tearing it up slowly after the fact. “I don’t want to go back there tonight.”

“Feel free to stay if you’d like,” she offered, putting her book down properly and sitting up. “But because Lupin is here, the guest room is out of the question, so that leaves either the sofa or my bedroom floor? Pretty certain we have a spare camp bed…”

Harry laughed. “A family of wizards and you’re suggesting a camp bed?”

Violet rolled her eyes and threw a raspberry at the boy. He saved it from bouncing onto the grass and ate it. “Do you want to stay or not? I know it’s your birthday tomorrow, and I got you something. I was going to send it with Astra, but…”

“Fine!” He held up his hands in protest. “I’ll stay. I’ll call the Dursleys and say I’m coming back tomorrow…”

“Good,” Violet said firmly. “You deserve a proper birthday, Harry.”

“Thanks,” he smiled sheepishly at her. “How’s er-?” He gestured vaguely at his own shoulder to indicate what he meant.

Violet - who was wearing a strappy sundress what with the weather being as lovely as it was - glanced down at her right shoulder as if to investigate the scars that were there. They were still a deep red, but not as angry as they had looked at the start of the summer.

“It’s a lot better than it was. I didn’t have proper movement in my arm for about a week, actually, I forgot to mention that in my letter...”

She glanced at Harry to find he was staring rather intently at her shoulder, and it made her wonder what was going through his head at that moment. Violet snapped her fingers in front of his face which brought him out of whatever stupor he was in. For some reason - even after clicking her fingers - Violet’s hand lingered in front of Harry’s face long enough for him to have to lower it.

A strange moment then passed between the two teens as they locked eyes, like something was  _ there _ but not quite. An anomalous, brief feeling of mutual attraction passed between them, not that they were even aware that’s what it was. Harry cleared his throat and Violet looked away from him, bashful.

“Shall we go back inside?” he then asked. “It’s quite warm out, isn’t it?”

Violet nodded and they started gathering up the remains of their lunch and the picnic blanket before heading back inside. They both sighed in relief when walking into the cool kitchen, refilling their empty glasses with water and leaving the plates in the sink.

“Back inside already?”

They turned to see Geniveve Merryworth wandering down into the kitchen towards them. At first glance she appeared to be a rather haughty woman taking into account her sharp facial features and narrow eyes, but there was a softness to her that became prevalent when she broke out into a grin on seeing Violet and Harry. She shared the same long black hair as her daughter, and the same hazel coloured eyes.

“It’s  _ really _ hot outside, mum, even under the tree,” Violet explained quickly. She paused for a moment. “Is it okay if Harry stays over? It’s his birthday tomorrow.”

“Of course! We’ll set up the camp bed in your room, how about that?”

“Sounds good, mum!”

“Give me the blanket, I’ll pop it away,” Geniveve said, taking the aforementioned item from her daughter and disappearing off upstairs.

Harry gulped down the rest of his water and set his glass in the sink. “Better call my uncle…”

“The phone’s in the living room, come on!”

Violet placed her glass in the sink too before leading Harry down the hallway and into the cosy living room. She pointed to the corner by the window where there was a little table with the electrical phone on it.

“I’ll leave you to it. My room’s the second door on the right when you head upstairs.”

She headed off up to her room after that, mostly because she realised it was a little bit untidy.

Violet’s bedroom reflected her innate nature of quiet and calm. The walls were a cream colour with one a pale shade of lilac right where her bed was. Her bed had far too many pillows and the softest duvet. Bookshelves lined half the wall next to her wardrobe, and a desk sat under the window with a view into the back garden. The walls were empty bar the space above her headboard where there were a few photos and letters pinned to the wall in a neat order.

The only thing that would contrast with all of that were the ridiculous amount of books that had over spilled from the shelves and onto the floor; some of them half read, some of them just… there because they had no other place to go.

She was frantically trying to tidy up the piles of books by her shelves when Harry walked with his backpack in a few minutes later, highly amused by the sight in front of him.

“I was  _ not _ expecting an exploded library at the end of your bed.”

Violet jumped and accidentally knocked over the stack she had just created. Sighing, she took another look at it and waved it off, getting to her feet.

“Yes, well… that happens sometimes,” she said. “Welcome to my humble abode,” she then added, gesturing around the modestly sized space that was her room.

Harry stared around her room and then beamed. “It’s very you.”

“Thanks,” she said in a strained voice, going over to her desk and straightening that up too. “Feel free to drop your bag anywhere…”

He did as he was told and awkwardly set it down next to the bookshelf where he knew it would be out of the way. “I won’t lie, I did bring a change of clothes just in case.”

Violet shook her head but found the prospect of Harry actually planning ahead amusing. “What did your uncle say?” She sat down on her bed, so he took the desk chair.

“As long as I could get back from the train station tomorrow, he really wasn’t fussed. Made a comment about you being the “most normal” out of my friends that he’d seen so far…”

“I’d  _ love _ for him to find out that my uncle is a Werewolf.”

“I dunno, I think him knowing that Sirius is technically a convicted murderer has him pretty scared.”

The pair of them laughed at that.

“You know what we should do?” Violet then said once they’d settled down. Harry shrugged. “We should watch  _ The Great Escape! _ It’s a fairly old war film, but it’s alright. One of dad’s favourites, actually.”

“You mentioned that on the platform!”

She giggled. “I did. It made sense, all things considered.”

The rest of the afternoon was lost in a war film. Thomas had been out for a walk when they had started watching so joined them for the remainder of the film once he returned home. It turned out that Thomas never knew Harry was a half-blood like Violet, so was less surprised when the boy knew what a VCR was. Violet was clearly painfully embarrassed and cheekily questioned how her father had ever been a Ravenclaw.

Dinner time was when Lupin joined them all. Now that was strange for Harry: he’d only ever been used to seeing Lupin in a formal educational setting and now he was being urged to call him by his first name. It took a good ten minutes before Harry was able to feel less awkward about it all. It felt good for the first time in a while to actually feel welcome at a dinner table with a small family, but there was a restraint in him: he knew tomorrow he’d be going back to the Dursleys until he eventually got to stay at Ron’s for the rest of the summer.

Regardless, Harry pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and enjoyed the rest of his evening.

In what would eventually be known as a very typical style for the two friends, they stayed up rather late talking about nothing and everything. It was eleven o’clock at night: Violet was in her bed, and Harry was in a camp bed on the floor. They were catching up on details that never made it into their letters, sharing secrets in whispers they might not have told their other friends yet, and giggling with naivety about the prospect of yet another new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. 

There were also other things spoken about - more serious things. Violet learned a fair amount about the Dursleys during that conversation and she grew to despise them more and more with every passing second.

“Why do you have to go back there every summer? Why not just stay with me, or Ron for that matter?” Violet questioned, leaning up on her elbow to look down at her friend.

“I don’t know. It’s never been explained to me. I wish I could stick around here though - I like it. It’s…” He took a moment to find the right word. “Peaceful.”

“Goodness knows you need some peace…”

“Yeah,” he laughed quietly. “Yeah…”

They settled down to sleep shortly after that - supposedly. Neither of them knew that the other was lying there awake waiting for the clock to strike midnight. Violet thought it might be fun to poke Harry when it got to the right time and wish him happy birthday, blissfully unaware that he was waiting up too, blissfully unaware that he had a habit of doing that every year.

Tentatively, Violet reached out with her foot to jab Harry at the stroke of midnight, but was instead met with him tickling the underside of it. She was so frightened that she jumped right back into her bed, leaving Harry silently cracking up on the floor.

“You’re awful!” she hissed at him, switching on the lamp but unable to keep a smile off her face. “Happy Birthday you - you  _ prick! _ ” Violet tried to go into a mock-sulk after that. “I can’t believe you’re still awake!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Violet Merryworth swears, does she?”

“Not usually…” she pouted, her arms folded. “But I’ve hung around Ron Weasley enough that I think I should be allowed. Anyway… do you want your present now or in the morning?”

“In the morning… why’d you stay up?”

“Thought it’d be nice for you. And funny. I was hoping you’d be asleep.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but there was a grin on his face regardless. “Well, thanks. First birthday away from the Dursleys and I’m glad it’s gonna be here. You can shower me with the correct birthday affection in the morning…”

“Such a way with words, Harry,” Violet told him as she switched off the lamp for the second time that night. “Good night…”

“Night, Vi.”

There was a stilted awkwardness in the room.

“More suited to Ron, I think,” Violet said.

“Yeah, definitely…”

The following morning, Harry was pleasantly surprised to find that birthdays could actually be  _ good. _

Violet got to jab him in the side with her foot as a means of waking him up; he allowed that much. The Merryworths went out of their way to set up breakfast outside as the day was just as warm as the one before it. Waking up at ten o’clock to find that fruit and pancakes were waiting to be consumed out on the patio in the morning sun was something that Harry decided was the best way to wake up. Owls had arrived that morning bearing gifts from Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and Hagrid - they all included an awful lot of cake that Harry was rather delighted to be taking back to Little Whinging with him (for the most part about going back there, anyway).

It was a Sunday, meaning the streets were quiet but the parks were full. Somehow - and somewhere - Thomas managed to find a good spot away from the masses to do some Quidditch. Even Violet begrudgingly got on a broomstick and attempted to throw her father’s battered old Quaffle about with him and Harry. She was terrible at it and it didn’t matter how hard Thomas tried to get his daughter to balance on the broom properly. She became rather huffy about it and eventually settled for doing laps around the small clearing they were in, with Harry joining her in a race. Thomas left them to it and said for them to be back at the house before two o’clock at the very least.

After a few races they collapsed down onto the grass, enjoying the hot weather and the soft breeze. There was a stillness to the world around them, perhaps a distant sound of a car or other people, but all that mattered was the gentle rustling of the tree branches behind them, and the company of each other.

“How much longer until we have to go back?” Harry asked, resting his hands behind his head.

Violet peered at her watch. “Half an hour. Why?”

“I almost don’t want to go back.”

“You’d rather have time stand still here, wouldn’t you?”

“Something like that, yeah. Not a bad way of putting it, actually.”

“You can always stay at mine longer?”

“I wish I could,” Harry admitted. “I don’t have my things though. Besides, I should be getting post from Ron over the next couple of days anyway. I’ll need to get my stuff ready to go to his.”

“Ah, of course,” she said, a slight smile on her face. “I’ll see you at the World Cup anyway.”

“Definitely. It’ll be great! Just… the time in between now and then won’t be as much.”

They fell into silence after that, just enjoying the sun for a bit longer before they decided to head back to Violet’s house for lunch. Harry was also presented with a birthday cake in that time (and how bizarre but lovely it was to have people sing happy birthday to him too) before ultimately being indecisive with what to do for the afternoon.

If there was one thing he adored about the Merryworths that made them unique in their own way, was the harmonious mix of magic and non-magic in their household. It made him think that perhaps this is what his life would have been a mix of if he had grown up with parents. This is the sort of nice, quiet life he would have had. He didn’t dwell on it too much, and spent the afternoon quietly perusing Violet’s records up in her room while she lounged on her bed reading.

“You’ve got a lot of Kate Bush…”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, I suppose I have…” she said in an offhand way as she turned the page in her book. She was reading something on curses. It looked like a hefty volume that Harry wasn’t sure if he’d be inclined to read.

“Like… a  _ lot _ of Kate Bush…” He was trying to get at something and Violet shot him a quizzical look while going her usual pink colour when she was flustered.

“And I suppose you listen to a lot of the Pet Shop Boys?” she managed to retort.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry spluttered.

“And what’s your Kate Bush comment meant to mean?!”

“G-girls?”

Violet sighed deeply and snapped her book shut. “I’m not a lesbian, Harry, if that’s what you wanted to ask me.”

“Oh, right, yeah - uh - cool.” Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly and immediately went back to flipping through her records. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, can we listen to some Pet Shop Boys?”

“Be my guest…”

That conversation wasn’t even the weirdest thing to happen that day.

A few minutes into some Pet Shop Boys, both Thomas and Lupin poked their heads into Violet’s room to investigate.

“This is rare,” Thomas said. “Pet Shop Boys?”

“Harry likes them,” Violet said simply. The boy himself was sitting on the floor cleaning up his Firebolt. “I think Harry likes Pet Shop Boys a lot.” He rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Is that code for something?” Lupin asked.

“No more a code than Kate Bush being someone lesbians listen to a lot,” Violet told them.

The adults stared at each other confused, and left them to it.

There was an unspoken agreement between the two friends not to mention it again, and the rest of the day passed by as relaxed as possible. Records were swapped out for cheesy hits from their childhoods, Violet gave Harry a list of book recommendations, and dinner in the evening was as magnificent as it could be for a birthday. Despite the fact Harry had to leave later on, nothing could dampen his spirits, not when Violet and her family had given him solace on his birthday for once.

He hugged his friend tightly when saying goodbye, and they promised to write to each other more before the Quidditch World Cup, which even Violet was excited for. That may have been because she’d get to see her friends again.

Harry’s fourteenth had topped his eleventh birthday as the best birthday in his life so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm hinting at some Things I have in mind in regards to Harry and Violet's characters... oop. Hope you guys enjoyed!


	23. Summer, 1994: The Quidditch World Cup

The day of the Quidditch World Cup had finally arrived.

It was an early start for the Merryworths (Lupin had not elected to join them due to it being so soon after the full moon of August, nor was he that interested in Quidditch anyway), and they had to get to the campsite for the World Cup via Portkey. Now, Violet had heard of Portkeys and she was not exactly looking forward to travelling by one. She knew her parents could Apparate, so why weren’t they doing that? She questioned them on that on their walk to find their registered Portkey.

“As much as we’d love to, Violet, there are wards up,” Genevive said. “And you’re far too young for Side-Along Apparition - no, this is much better…”

“I’m surprised they didn’t make you work…” Thomas commented. “I’m glad they didn’t. You deserve a bit of time off.”

“So do you,” she smiled at Thomas and kissed him on the cheek, and Violet rolled her eyes. She adored her parents, but she didn’t need to see the lovey dovey moments between them if it could be helped.

The walk to wherever the Portkey was was quite long, but that was no matter to Violet: it woke her up. Leaving the house before five o’clock in the morning should have been considered a crime in her eyes. She was an early bird to a point; she drew the line at getting up before six o’clock, really. It took them about twenty minutes to reach the spot of the Portkey: an empty bottle of wine, it seemed.

They’d arrived early, so had to wait a few more minutes before actually touching the Portkey.

What happened next was something Violet never wanted to experience again: being sucked into a whirlwind pool (that reminded her of nights hiding behind the sofa watching Colin Baker and then Sylvester McCoy as the Doctor hurtling through time and space), the feeling of being pulled so sharply hooking her in the chest as it happened. She wanted to throw up mid travel, but thankfully it was over nearly as soon as it began.

Violet landed flat on her face, groaning as she got up onto her elbows.

“Need a hand?” said a familiar voice from above her. She looked up to see Harry standing there, looking rather frazzled himself. Violet took his hand gratefully and he helped her up, pulling her into a hug after he did so.

“I’m never travelling by Portkey again,” she mumbled into her friend’s shoulder.

“If I can avoid it - me too,” he agreed once they broke apart.

The moment caught sight of Ron and Hermione, she rushed to them for hugs as well, before respectfully shaking Mr Weasley’s hand, and giving Fred and George high fives - more accurately, the insisted on them from her. Violet didn’t know them well enough, as was the situation with Ginny who she awkwardly waved at.

“Oh! Another one?” said a rather light voice. Violet turned to see a fairly tall man with glasses staring at her rather bemused. He then took her hand in his and shook it rather vigorously. “Amos Diggory, you may know my son, Cedric?”

He gestured over to the equally tall boy (who seemed more lanky) and Violet nodded. Of course she knew Cedric: he’d beaten Harry in a rather unfortunate game of Quidditch the previous year…

“Good to properly meet you, Cedric,” she said, backing off away from him and his father towards her friends.

“Violet Merryworth, right? Lupin’s niece?” Cedric offered.

“Ah. Yes.” She could feel herself going pink: over the summer she’d forgotten how that rumour had spread like wildfire around the school.

“Nice. Shame he had to go…”

“Y-yeah…”

Their conversation dropped dead after that, so she caught up with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Her parents were chatting animatedly with Mr Weasley, which sent some sort of relief through her.

The campsite was tremendous. Irish and Bulgarian flags alike flying around, streamers and dancing lights (some of which were essentially just watered down fireworks), witches and wizards all painted in the colours of the countries they supported - there was no other atmosphere like it. Violet’s jaw dropped and she stared around the place in wonder: there certainly must have been some incredibly good protection charms to stop all this madness getting out. It really didn’t matter that it was coming up to five thirty in the morning - the atmosphere was in full force.

Violet and her parents had to part ways from the Weasleys and the Diggorys, but Ron promised they’d come find her after they dropped all their stuff off. She honestly couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the day before the match with her friends, and she looked forward to getting to know the rest of Ron’s family a little better too. Particularly Ginny - they’d had a bare minimum interaction in the Chamber of Secrets two years ago, and Violet couldn’t help but feel awkward about that. She hoped that Ginny didn’t take offence at her previously silent nature around strangers.

The tent had the standard magic to it so that it was bigger on the inside - Violet had been inside one a few times before on the odd occasion her and her parents had gone camping. She loved the homely feel to it, and the fact she still essentially got her own bedroom too.

Around about the seven o’clock mark did Harry, Hermione, and Ron poke their heads into the tent. Genevive did the motherly thing of making sure they all had some breakfast before sending them off on their merry way to explore (Violet and Hermione with their small bags filled with some extra snacks to tide the group over until lunch).

They were left alone until the Merryworths came running up to them.

“Wait! Ron, you wouldn’t mind showing us back to where you’re staying?” Thomas asked. “So we can find Violet quickly if we need to?”

“Oh! Yeah, sure… Vi, you’ve not met Bill and Charlie, have you?” Ron seemed quite excited about the prospect of introducing her to his two eldest brothers. “They should be here by now, actually.”

She shook her head. “I look forward to it though.”

It took them about ten more minutes before they reached the tent. Violet’s parents immediately went to engage in conversation with Mr Weasley yet again outside its entrance (he had plenty of Muggle world related questions for Thomas), meanwhile Fred and George were sitting with two other redheads she didn’t recognise. They were playing Exploding Snap by the looks of things. Immediately the slightly more freckly one with the hair just below his ears jumped up on seeing the small group.

“Is this  _ the _ Violet Merryworth that Harry was on about the other day?” He stuck out his hand to a now embarrassed Violet. “Charlie Weasley.”

“Lovely to meet you,” she said calmly, before throwing Harry a questioning look. He turned his head away from her, pretending not to have heard a word that Charlie had said.

Then the other stranger of a redhead stood up. If Violet hadn’t already been embarrassed by how Charlie had introduced himself, she was certainly beetroot on making eye contact with who she could assume to be Bill Weasley. He was tall, his long hair tied back in a ponytail, he had a  _ fang earring _ and  _ goodness _ he was just about the coolest person she had ever met.

She was positively speechless. In fact she caught herself before her jaw dropped open as she rather mechanically shook his now outstretched hand. Oh, it was soft, but well worn at the same time. Violet mentally slapped herself. Oh god, she was shaking the most handsome boy’s hand ever - no, he was what? In his early twenties? Oh god, she was shaking hands with the most handsome young man she’d ever seen in her life.

“Pleasure to meet you, Violet,” he said, finding her silence amusing. He raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m Bill.”

“Yes - uh - yes, you - you too, Bill.”

She heard someone coughing behind her and turned to see that Harry was trying to cover up a laugh, and Charlie was smacking him on the back (while smirking) as if to play into the whole thing too. Ron merely looked confused, and Hermione had drawn her lips into a very tight line but her eyes were watering as it became obvious she was trying not to erupt into giggles at Violet’s reaction to Bill. Ginny had walked out of the tent at the most opportune moment, and had to duck back inside in fear of laughing out loud.

“Here, Violet, have you never seen a twentysomething before?” George called over to her and she immediately scampered off over to her parents. They took one look at her face and both sighed.

“What happened?” Genevive asked.

“N-nothing…”

“Violet…”

“I don’t want to say,” she replied stubbornly, folding her arms and sitting down next to her mum. Her face was returning to its normal colour, and Genevive gently patted her daughter on the shoulder, knowing full well that once whatever awkwardness in her had faded, she’d go back to her friends.

It took a few minutes, but eventually she wandered back over to them and not a single word was said about her apparent liking of Bill. It seemed like he hadn’t noticed it either, but if he had done so, he wasn’t making it obvious and for that she was grateful. Ginny had also returned from her hiding spot in the tent.

“Have you guys heard about the Bulgarian mascots?” Charlie asked. Bill started chuckling.

“No? What’s wrong with them?” Ron asked with a frown.

“Nothing, ickle Ronnikins - but they  _ are _ Veela. Thought that might interest you lot.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, because Hermione and I want to be charmed by Veela?”

“To be fair, they are rather fascinating how they can do that  _ innately _ …” Hermione pointed out. Violet considered that for a moment.

“You’re right. Maybe we should go see if we can find them?” Violet paused. “Will we be able to see them before the match?”

“Most likely not. They’ll be with the Bulgarian Quidditch team if anything,” Bill said. “You’ll see them at the match - considering they’re the mascots.”

Ron seemed pretty grumbly about that, but the four friends eventually departed from the tent area with Ginny to go and explore. She skipped up to Violet and nudged her in the elbow.

“Sorry we’ve spoken much before,” the young redhead said. Violet was rather taken aback by the gesture.

“It’s alright, Ginny, I’m not exactly much of a talker anyway,” she admitted, making the girl giggle. “What?”

“Going by how you reacted to Bill? I can tell,” she teased.

_ She doesn’t miss a trick, that one… _ Violet thought, facepalming after that remark. “It’s not quite like that…”

“Like what? You having a crush on Bill?” Ginny raised an eyebrow at her. “FIne by me, shame he’s too old for you.”

“Oh - stop it,” Violet waved the girl off with a laugh. That caught Harry’s attention, and he turned around to grin at the pair of them. That only served to almost embarrass Violet again, but then she caught how Ginny faltered for a moment before re-composing herself once more.

“Finally, the pair of you speaking after two years!” He seemed rather overjoyed at that prospect and dropped back a few paces to walk with the pair of them.

“More like Ginny teasing me about Bill…”

“So you like boys with long hair now, is that what?” Harry was having far too much fun with this, and it made Violet die on the inside. She side eyed him for a moment, taking in the fact that his hair - while nowhere near as long to put into a ponytail - was nearly shoulder length, and look rather soft to-

Violet shook herself out of those thoughts, flashing Harry a nervous smile. “Something like that. Boys with bright eyes and long hair  _ really _ appeal to me.” There was a hint of sarcasm there, but there was far too much truth to her statement. She hurried to catch up with Hermione and Ron, pulling the girl aside more privately as they wandered towards a stand for Omnioculars.

“I think I’m going to need to spend a lot more time with you this year, Hermione,” Violet told her in a strained voice.

“I like the sound of that,” she replied brightly, but she narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I… you know what? It doesn’t matter. Can we  _ please _ just get away from the boys a bit more this year? Without a squabble with them?”

Hermione laughed and nodded, linking arms with Violet and they went to peer at the strange type of binoculars. Harry was apparently feeling generous so bought the five of them a pair each (despite their protests) so Hermione insisted on buying them all programmes, and Violet bought them all pins of the respective teams they wanted to support. The girls went for Ireland, while they boys went for Bulgaria.

The rest of the day passed by in a whirlwind. The group managed to spot some Veela heading in the direction of the stadium leaving Harry and Ron under a spell for a moment or two (and even Violet had to admit she had been entranced to some degree), before they eventually ran into Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Harry and Ron very swiftly hid the Bulgaria pin badges as they lied through their teeth to Seamus’ mother about how they would be supporting Ireland.

They met Ministry officials such as Barty Crouch as he passed by Mr Weasley’s tent, and the commentator of the match, Ludo Bagman. Fred and George appeared to be acting rather suspiciously around Bagman, Violet noticed, but she knew it was none of her business anyway and put it to the back of her mind.

She ended up having to go back to her tent with her parents before the match started, but she promised her friends she would be back after the match, as they were seated in completely different parts of the stadium.

It was for Violet to be so enthralled by a game of Quidditch, but even she couldn’t keep the sheer excitement off of her face. This was far better than any match she’d seen at Hogwarts (and she’d seen Harry have the most amazing victory against Ravenclaw in third year), but she suspected that was down to the fact all the players were professionals. Throughout the day, Ron had been making comments about the Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum, and now she could see why the boy was practically in love with the Quidditch player.

He seemed like a tactical player, from what Violet could see: the way he was able to lead the Irish Seeker on and pretend like he’d spotted the Snitch, but that didn’t stop Ireland from steaming ahead in the amount of goals they scored. Thomas was getting rather into the match, and Violet took note of the fact she’d never seen her dad so thrilled about… well, anything before. It was sweet. Even her mum was getting into it too, and for a moment she felt like the odd one out in her family.

As much as she was having, Quidditch was still definitely not her thing. Her mum surprised her about how vocal she was cheering on, but Violet remembered that her mum  _ had _ married one of the best Quidditch players at Hogwarts after all…

Then Krum caught the Snitch! But Ireland won. Violet found that rather funny.

Celebrations were out in full force for the Irish victory, and Violet was dropped off at the Weasley’s tent so she could celebrate with her friends.

Upon entering the Weasleys’ tent, an Ireland scarf was thrown around her neck and she was promptly led to the centre of the room by Fred and George, whereby they pushed her right into the arms of Bill who spun her around. Violet was positively dizzy, but she giggled and got into it for a moment before collapsing down on the ground next to Harry, slightly breathless.

“They’ve been planning that since we left the stadium,” he told her with a big smile.

“You’re pretty chirpy for someone whose team just lost!”

Harry shrugged. “It was a  _ really _ good game though.”

“Even I have to agree to that…” Violet glanced around to see that Fred, George and Ginny were now teasing Ron about Viktor Krum, Hermione was in a corner watching on fondly, and Bill and Charlie were pouring themselves each a bit of Firewhiskey now.

“This is mad,” Violet commented.

“You love it.”

“I do - I  _ really  _ do… I’m glad I have you lot,” she said more seriously as she faced Harry. “You’re all good friends. And you know - maybe I could get into Quidditch…”

“Really?” Harry seemed hopeful.

“Absolutely not, Harry.”

He laughed, just as Bill and Charlie came back over to get the teens off the floor and doing some sort of Irish jig. It was all completely ridiculous, but Violet couldn’t keep the smile off of her face nor could she contain her laughter. It felt good to let loose a little bit.

Everyone appeared to be drunk on euphoria, and Violet never wanted it to end. She even joined in with the little chant to goad Ron about how much he was  _ clearly _ in love with Viktor Krum, the way he was talking about the Seeker.

Ron - very obviously - was not impressed.

As he was getting grumpy over the whole ordeal, what seemed to be extremely loud fireworks were being set off outside. Mr Weasley - who had been keeping out of the way of their festivities - went to investigate outside, beckoning for Bill and Charlie to come with him. A funny idea struck Violet in that moment the older boys were led away, and she turned to Harry.

“Harry, if I were Viktor Krum and you were Ron, what would you do?” She had a mischievous glint in her eye.

Her friend caught on to what she was playing at, and then suddenly dropped down to one knee and clutched her left hand in both of his. “Viktor, I love you with my whole heart, will you marry me and teach me to be the best Seeker?”

“Oh, Ronald, of  _ course _ ! I would be  _ honoured _ !” Violet replied in a terrible Bulgarian accent, causing Fred, George, and Ginny to fall about laughing.

“Shut up!” Ron grumbled as Harry stood up and tried not to double over laughing. Violet immediately softened on seeing her friend’s annoyance at their jibes.

“Come on, Ron, you’d do the same if it were any of us!” she pointed out.

He nodded, a slight smile on his face. “True - I gotta ask, do you think when you’re old enough you’ll marry Bill?”

While everyone was cackling, there was a particularly loud bang from outside, followed by screams.

“Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on,” Fred said, just as Mr Weasley, Bill, and Charlie came back in.

“It’s not the Irish,” Mr Weasley said. “Come on, we’ve got to go.”

Everyone looked at each other worriedly but headed outside all the same.

It was chaos - and not the good kind. Tents were being set on fire, people running everywhere and screaming their heads off. What stuck out most to Violet was someone mentioning “Death Eaters” and she tensed up and took a step back, bumping into Bill. They glanced at each other - him a little oddly at her, but then realisation dawned on his face.

“We have to get back to the Portkey,” Mr Weasley said. “Fred - George - Ginny is your responsibility! Bill and Charlie, make sure we all stick together!”

“Mr Weasley - my parents-”

“Violet, you won’t be able to find them right now - stick with us!” he told her. She felt someone slip their hand into hers; it was Harry. He gave it a quick squeeze and they tried to follow Hermione and the Weasleys but with all the commotion going on they were separated from them.

Trembling with fear, Violet gripped onto Harry’s hand tightly so she would not be swept away by the crowd and be entirely on her own. They tried to follow the same direction that everyone was running by, only at one point they slipped down a slight slope. Harry put his arms around from Violet so as to protect her from the stampede, which was when he became a dead weight on her.

He’d been knocked out.

Violet flipped him onto his back and tried to rouse him from unconsciousness, tears in her eyes. The crowd was starting to thin out ever so slightly, but she’d never been so afraid in her life. She had no idea where her parents were, where the rest of their friends were, and she had no idea if they’d be found again. Crying, she buried her face in Harry’s chest and clutched onto him like a lifeline, waiting for all the chaos to die down.

Eventually the screams subsided, and Violet peered up from Harry to see that the entire campsite had been blazed to the ground. Nothing but ashes and charred remnants of tents remained. She sniffed, but the tears still streamed silently down her face.

Thankfully, Harry stirred beneath her and then sat up, pulling her into a hug.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

“I’m - I’m fine,” she stammered out, and they stood up, once again holding hands. “Harry, I don’t know where the others are - I don’t know - I don’t know where my parents are-”

“We’ll find them. Come on.”

They ran aimlessly through the campsite for a few minutes before skidding to a halt. There was a man in the distance, and they watched as he pointed his wand to the sky; following that line of sight, a green skull appeared. Then the man spotted them, and started to make his way towards them.

“Harry! Violet!” called out a familiar voice - Hermione.

The man disappeared from view after that.

A minute or so later Ron and Hermione were running towards them, and embracing them.

“We thought we’d lost you,” Ron said.

“What is that?” Harry asked, pointing to the sky and groaning as he clutched his forehead in pain. The skull now had a snake coming out of its mouth, intertwining and looping around itself in a strange manner.

Not a moment later were the four friends surrounded by Ministry officials trying to disarm them or knock them out. Not once did Harry and Violet let go of each other as they ducked down with their friends.

“Stop! That’s my son!” boomed the voice of Mr Weasley, heading towards them with Fred, George, and Ginny.

“Violet? Are you there?” came the voice of Genevive.

“Mum! Dad!” Violet finally broke away from her friends and rushed towards her parents who pulled her into a tight hug. “You’re okay.”

“Of course we’re okay, sweetheart, are you?” Thomas looked down at Violet and cupped her face gently. When she nodded, he glanced up at Harry, beckoning him to come over. “Harry, are you alright?”

The boy nodded in response as he walked over to the Merryworths, who each embraced him warmly.

“He was kicked in the head - someone knocked him out by accident when we slipped earlier,” Violet told her parents, her eyes going big and round as she looked up at them; Harry had only ever seen her do that when she was worried.

Immediately, Thomas - being a Healer - started to fuss over him while one of the Ministry officials - Barty Crouch - tried to blame one of the fourteen year olds for conjuring the symbol in the sky.

“I don’t understand - what crime?” Harry asked, wincing as Thomas applied a little pressure to the part of his head where he’d been kicked. There was definitely a bump there.

“It’s - its  _ his  _ mark,” Violet said, resting her head against her mother’s shoulder while holding onto her.

“Voldemort?” Harry turned to Mr Weasley. “Those people tonight - they were his followers, weren’t they?”

Mr Weasley nodded. “Death Eaters.”

“I suppose I’ll have to be going into work tomorrow…” Genevieve murmured, and Violet looked up at her mother more worried than ever. Thomas stopped fussing over Harry.

“Mum, you’re still meant to be on holiday-“

“I know, I know, but with the Dark Mark and Death Eaters? I have to go back tomorrow, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“Your help will be much appreciated, Genevive,” Barty said. She gave him a curt nod in response.

“There was a man before,” Harry then said. “Over there.” He pointed in the direction he and Violet had come from.

Barty went off with the other officials, leaving the families alone.

“What man, Harry?” Mr Weasley asked.

“I don’t know. Didn’t see his face.”

“Alright.” Mr Weasley turned to the Merryworths. “I expect you’re working tomorrow too, Thomas? If you want, we can have Violet stay with us for the remainder of the summer - it’s only for a week.”

“That’ll be much appreciated, Arthur, thank you. We’ll head over later by Floo?”

“Sounds good to me. Good luck to the both of you.”

As everyone parted ways that night to return home, Harry couldn’t help but notice how downcast Violet looked. She appeared to remain that way when arriving at the Burrows an hour later with all her belongings, and she retreated into herself.

Unsociable and extremely quiet.

It had been a long time since she’d been that way.


	24. Summer, 1994: The Burrow

“Really, Charlie, I don’t want to boot you out of your room-”

“Violet, you’re a guest here. You’re not sharing with Percy,” Charlie told her as he lugged her suitcase up the stairs. She was following behind him cautiously with Astra in her cage, her brow knotted with worry and her cheeks pink from embarrassment. “Besides, it’s pretty obvious you have a crush on Bill anyway…”

“I - I do not!” she spluttered, clutching Astra’s cage more tightly and the pink in her face switching to bright crimson. All Charlie did was laugh when they came to a stop outside the right bedroom door. He knocked a couple of times before Bill called them in.

She actively avoided looking at Bill who was lounging on his bed in nothing but a pair of joggers and reading a book. She placed Astra at the foot of the empty bed and kept her eyes firmly on Charlie.

“Trust me, Vi, it’s better if I share with Perce. Have fun…” He placed the suitcase next to Astra, threw a wink at Violet, and shut the door.

“Is it just a Weasley thing to call me ‘Vi?’” she muttered to herself as she went rooting about in her trunk for some pyjamas.

“Yep,” Bill said from the other side of the room. Violet jolted rather violently - not expecting him to answer - and smacked her head on the wall. “Oh, god, are you alright?”

“Peachy keen,” she said with tears stinging her eyes. Pyjamas in hand, she rushed to the bathroom to go change, as well as splash some cold water on her face. That did absolutely nothing to help with the heat that was in her face, and she suddenly became self conscious of the fact Bill was going to notice she currently resembled a tomato.

Violet pulled her hair out of the pony tail it was in and combed her fingers through the thick mass until it draped around her shoulders in a less awkward way. There: ready for bed.

What she didn’t expect when getting back to Bill’s room, was him to be in bed but still awake. He was watching her curiously as she got into Charlie’s bed, as if he couldn’t quite figure her out.

“What?” Violet queried, with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing.” Bill shrugged. “You’re very quiet.”

“This is just my normal state,” she replied, her face returning to its normal colour. “And…” Violet bit her lip, not sure if she should explain. Bill was now propped up on his elbow looking at her expectantly: she barely knew him but was sleeping in his room, him with that ruggedly handsome face and cool, long hair, and it helped he had a calm, welcoming aura about him too. 

Plus he was a Curse Breaker, he could keep a secret, right?

“I’m worried about my mum,” she then said so quietly she wasn’t sure if Bill heard. Tears were back in her eyes again, but for a different reason. She sniffed, trying to hold them back, and that prompted Bill.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly. “She’s been an Auror for a long time, she’ll be fine.”

“It’s not that-“

“Vi, I’m old enough to know about names of Death Eaters from the First Wizarding War,” his voice was gentle. “So I know that she’s up against her particularly nasty siblings. You’ve not told your friends, have you?”

“No,” she said after a moment of hesitation.

“You should,” Bill paused. “Sleep on that. You don’t have to tell them right away, but they’re your friends and they’ll be a damn sight better at talking to you about this than me.”

She nodded. “Good night, Bill.”

“Night, Vi.”

Violet heard him mutter Nox and all the lights went out. She rolled onto her side so that she was facing the wall, wondering why she still struggled to tell her friends the more minute details about her life. She wondered why her trust in people was still somewhat shaky.

She fell into a troubled sleep, waking up in a cold sweat every couple of hours after having a bad dream that she didn’t recall in the slightest. By the time Violet woke up properly the next morning, she was the only one in the room. Bill’s bed had been neatly made and she could hear voices outside the room. The voices of her friends, that she didn’t particularly want to talk to right now. Bill and Charlie had been enough the previous night.

Violet faced the wall and pretended to be asleep again when the quiet knocking started and then someone poked their head in.

“D’you think we should wake her?” Harry mumbled.

“No - leave her…” came a whisper from Hermione. “She looked worried when getting here last night…”

Eventually the door shut with a click, and Violet sat up in bed when she was sure they weren’t going to come back. She felt drained and sick with worry, but didn’t really have any intentions of sharing too much too soon. She didn’t want to think about the fact her parents had to leave her here last minute, and she certainly didn’t want to think about who her mum was going to be on the chase for.

Violet was already tentative enough when it came to outright talking about her relatives. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to go in depth yet. The thought of it exhausted her even more than she already was, and she hadn’t even got out of bed.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes and finding some fresh clothes and a towel, before heading to the bathroom to get ready. Admittedly that process made her feel somewhat better, but it didn’t stop her from bringing a book downstairs and then reading it over the breakfast Mrs Weasley had kept warm for her. Violet muttered a thank you to her host and silently ate and read in the kitchen. The odd glance out the window told her that her friends were all outside trying to enjoy the last week of their summer.

Eventually Violet put down her book and stared, catching glimpses of them here and there. They all looked so at home, so  _ free _ and it made her think that perhaps she was the odd one out. She was still the new one to their group after all, and as much as they had made her feel welcome and at home as best as possible, there was always the little voice at the back of her mind telling her she was too quiet to fit in with them. Too secretive to have friends.

“Are you alright, dear?” Mrs Weasley asked as she came to collect Violet's plate. The girl jumped, but nodded all the same with the faintest of smiles.

“Thank you for having me for the whole week,” she replied.

“It’s no bother at all!” The woman paused. “Try not to worry though. Bill mentioned you were out of sorts last night…”

Violet sighed and closed her book. “Right…”

“Go and enjoy the sun. It might help.”

As Violet closed her book and got up, she wondered if that was Mrs Weasley’s way of coaxing her into talking to her friends. They weren’t really up to much outside, but they’d grabbed broomsticks and looked to be heading somewhere with them. Even Hermione had a broom too. Violet followed at a slower pace behind her friends and the rest of the Weasleys up to an orchard that was far away from the prying eye to allow the eight of them to play Quidditch.

She sat in the shade of a tree and watched her friends play for some time before getting back to her book. Eventually, she was joined by Harry and Hermione, who appeared to be very concerned.

“You alright?” Harry asked, as he and Hermione sat down on either side of Violet. She gave a very nonchalant shrug as a response.

“Violet…” Hermione was gentle. “Last year when you told us about your family not being nice… did you mean…?”

“That they were Death Eaters? Yes.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah. Dexter and Willmott are heading that way too.”

She went quiet again for a moment. Harry and Hermione waited patiently for her to start speaking again.

“The Oaks family was always about blood purity,” she began. “That much I know about my ancestors. For the specific immediate family? We have Fletcher Oaks, my uncle; Virginia Oaks, my aunt who married Fletcher; their children Dexter and Willmot; Lamia Oaks, my other aunt; then there’s my mother: Genevive. The one who married a Muggleborn and was disowned for it. They all know about Lupin as well. That day Dexter and Willmot found me in the library last year - they had a couple of crude comments to make about that too...”

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione said.

“Mum has to fight her own siblings when it gets down to it… they raised Dexter and Willmot. They’re going to be ten times worse than them. Not to mention they’re  _ actually _ Death Eaters…”

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Harry questioned, his brow knotted.

Violet bit her lip. “I… I don’t know. I feel like the odd one out sometimes. This would have made it worse… I’m their blood.”

“We’re your  _ friends _ ,” Hermione reminded her firmly. “This wouldn’t have made a difference to how we feel about you at all. Mr and Mrs Weasley probably knew about this from the First Wizarding War and they opened their home to you the minute your parents had to go and help with the mess caused last night. You being the Oaks’ blood doesn’t matter at all to us.”

“You’re a good person, Violet. Really,” Harry said. “Don’t hide from us.”

Hermione shot him a  _ look. _ “But by all means, if you would prefer to be alone with your thoughts, that’s fine too. We’re not too far away.”

“Yeah. That too,” Harry swiftly agreed, on realising that Hermione was trying not to pressure Violet into actively spending time with them.

“Thanks,” VIolet said. “Look, you two go back to Quidditch. I’m fine here. Promise.”

The rest of the week passed like that.

Violet was slow in joining her friends after breakfast, opting for spending most of her mornings reading quietly or offering to help Mrs Weasley around the house where she could so that she could occupy her mind. Her heart wasn’t in talking to anyone, but she did wonder if Harry and Hermione had at least passed on what she told them to Ron. They must have done, because he was erring on the side of caution when trying to get her involved in games of chess, Exploding Snap, or anything, really.

Halfway through the week she found herself opening back up to Harry and Hermione a little more at the very least, managing to at least engage in some sort of meaningless conversation with the pair of them. It helped ease her troubled mind, but it didn’t settle it entirely - it didn’t stop her from feeling embarrassed and ashamed of being related to such awful people who had probably taken delight in ruining the Quidditch World Cup.

Then two nights before they were all due back at Hogwarts, something Violet hadn’t realised she so desperately needed to happen, happened.

It must have been about eleven o’clock at night, both her and Bill had been sleeping soundly, when there was a constant tapping on the window. It woke both of them up, Bill grabbing his wand flicking it so that the lights turned on. Groggy, they found an owl with a letter in its beak at the window.

“Virgil!” Violet was suddenly more awake as she let in the owl. She took the letter from him and opened up Astra’s cage so he could go camp in there.

“Virgil?” Bill was still groggy.

“My dad’s owl!”

Violet tore open the letter as she sat back down on her bed, Bill heading over to join her.

_ Dearest Violet, _

_ Mum and I are fine. Work is just really busy for the both of us which is why we’ve not said anything for the past few days. We’ll be able to come and see you off on the 1st September, because we’re not going to let you go back to school without a proper goodbye. _

_ We both know what you’re like - stop worrying, and enjoy your last few days of freedom. Play some Quidditch with Harry for your old dad, eh? _

_ Love, _ _   
_ _ Mum and Dad x _

“Hey - you’re smiling!” Bill ruffled her hair and grinned at her. “Better?”

“Yeah - I think so,” she said, trying to smooth out her hair. She handed the letter to him and he skimmed through it.

“Get the uncertainty out of your voice, Vi, you’re feeling better and you know it,” he told her, handing the letter back. He stood up and went to put on a t-shirt before heading over to the door. “You coming?”

“What?” she set down the letter, a little confused.

“We’ve got some Butterbeer,” he said, as if that explained everything, leaving the room. Curious about what Bill wanted to clearly speak about over a Butterbeer, Violet cautiously followed him downstairs and sat on the sofa, waiting for him to get back with the two beverages. There was still a light on - a dim one - and it added a nice, comforting glow to the room that wasn’t too hard on the eyes.

Bill settled in the armchair after he came back from the kitchen and handed one of the bottles to Violet.

“Do you wanna know why mum put you in my room? Instead of with the girls?”

“Actually, yes,” Violet replied with her brow knotted. “I’ve been wondering about that.”

“Harry’s been talking about you a lot the past couple of weeks, and if my eavesdropping has been correct, I believe my sister likes him. Plus, she doesn’t really know you too well…”

She shifted uncomfortably, taking a sip of the beverage. “I mean… that’s fair enough about her not knowing me well enough to have me stay in her room along with Hermione, but… I’m just really good friends with Harry. It’s not like I have a crush on him or anything.”

“Right,” Bill said, not quite believing her. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely. Even if I did, I wouldn’t - I wouldn’t want to act on it. I wouldn’t want to risk my friendship with him, you know?” She hugged her knees to her chest with one arm, a little embarrassed that she was even having this conversation with Bill - and calmly at that, too.

He chuckled. “You’re a good kid, Vi. I don’t know you very well, but your friends are lucky to have you. I think even Ginny might grow to really like you, once she gets to know you a little better too. You could both get on really well.”

“You’ve been waiting until I felt better to talk to me about this, haven’t you?” Violet raised an eyebrow at him.

“Guilty as charged.”

“You’re like an annoying older brother.”

“Correction: I  _ am _ an annoying older brother. Anyway, I wouldn’t let the others know I’ve told you this. It might make things a bit odd.”

“Why did you tell me anyway?”

“Like I said: you’re a good kid. I don’t want to see any of you lot falling out over something stupid. And with how quiet you’ve been since the World Cup, it looked like you could use an older brother type of chat.”

As sweet as the sentiment was, Violet felt weirded out considering how she’d reacted when they’d first met. Perhaps he really was pretty clueless about the whole thing. Either way, she definitely appreciated Bill talking to her, otherwise she wouldn’t have known and could have said something stupid in front of Ginny or Harry.

They began to chat idly, slowly sipping away at the Butterbeer, until footsteps on the stairs caused them to freeze. Thankfully, it was only a rather bedraggled looking Harry.

“What are you two doing?” he said upon seeing them in the living room.

“Talking. Want to join?” Violet asked. Harry glanced between her and Bill, then decided there was no harm done in that, and sat next to Violet on the sofa.

“Feeling better then?” he then asked.

“Yeah… got a letter from my parents. All is well,” she paused. “Then Bill decided to take on the older brother role for yet another dark haired stranger in his house and here we are.”

Bill scoffed. “I’d hardly call Harry a dark haired stranger…”

“Only because he’s been here longer than me this summer…”

The Weasley boy rolled his eyes and necked back the rest of his drink. “Whatever, I’m going back to bed. Night.”

“Night,” Harry and Violet chanted back at him.

The moment that Bill was definitely out of earshot, Violet turned to her friend. “How come you’re awake?”

“Bad dream. I’ll… talk about it on the way back to school. I don’t want to think about it right now. You seem better.”

“Yes! Um, my parents sent me a letter. They’re coming to King’s Cross to see me off,” she told him with a shaky smile (as it occurred to her she had a secret to keep, now), before passing him the bottle. Harry took a couple of swigs from it gratefully before handing it back.

“This would be classed as underage drinking in the Muggle world, wouldn’t it?” he joked.

Violet giggled. “Something like that, yes. It’s hardly alcoholic though - it’s just the name that would suggest it.”

They fell silent for a few minutes, taking it in turns drinking from the bottle so as to finish off the Butterbeer. A strange way to spend the middle of the night instead of sleeping, but it was companionable and comforting to both friends.

“Did I ever tell you it was pretty cool seeing how you lived your life outside of school? That mix of magic and Muggle… it’s great. Made me wonder if my life would have been like that…” Harry said, taking Violet quite aback. “I love it here as well - being surrounded by all of it.”

“I can imagine, actually. It’s like coming home for you, isn’t it?”

_ Coming home… _ perhaps it was the way the words fell from Violet’s lips that made Harry’s heart skip a beat, or because he knew she had countless occasions to sit back and watch him from afar, but the words themselves showed that she had a weird, innate understanding of him. They’d only been true friends for just over a year.

“Yeah. It is.”

The two friends went to bed in better spirits after that.

Violet very reluctantly got on a broom the next day for one Quidditch match too, before she went back to her usual of reading and watching her friends from afar. This time, without such a huge weight on her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Me again! Not entirely sure how the Weasleys' house is laid out, but I'd imagine Bill/Charlie sharing, Fred/George sharing, then Percy, Ron, and Ginny having their own rooms. Idk, it just seemed to make sense to me, with the way the house is stacked. Cramped, but room for 6 bedrooms once you include Molly/Arthur in the mix. Hope you enjoyed! There's just certain characters I love writing Violet with, and I was surprised to find that Bill was one of them! They'll have a few "bro" moments down the line.


	25. Trains, Owls, and Friendship Fouls

The moment Violet saw her parents after crossing through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, she immediately let go of her trolley and went running up to them. The three of them embraced each other in one big hug, and any remaining worry Violet had about what was going on disappeared entirely.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s been busy but we’ll always be fine!” Genevive told her, pressing a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head. “You do need to stop worrying so much!”

“Lots of late nights too…” Thomas added. “We would have had Remus look after you, but he’s been under the weather. Besides, it seemed like making sure you were with your friends was the best idea - how has this week been?”

The three of them broke apart, just as Bill came over with Violet’s trolley. He handed it back to the girl with a mockingly unimpressed look, and then meandered off back to his family before she could even say thank you properly.

“It’s been okay. I read a lot,” she said. “But… I did play a little bit of Quidditch yesterday. One game only. I’m awful as a Chaser… I think I’ll stick to keeping my feet on the ground.”

“Understandable,” Thomas chuckled. “Can’t say I didn’t try to make you a Quidditch player. Enjoy yourself this year, love. You may want to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas actually.”

“Tom!” Genevive hissed at him, batting him on the arm too. Violet looked between her parents, confused.

“Why?” she asked suspiciously. “Is this to do with what Bill and Charlie were hinting at yesterday afternoon?”

They looked shifty, and so started to usher her back towards her friends. Thomas handed her her satchel and grabbed the trolley. “Never you mind, off to school with you!”

Violet sighed. “Fine. Love you mum, dad,” she said softly. She gave her mother’s hand one last quick squeeze and scurried off back to her friends, while her parents went to go offload her suitcase onto the train, which she brought her owl with her. Even though time with them had been short just now, she was grateful for it all the same. Besides, she still had to say goodbye to the Weasleys too.

“Enjoy the year, Vi,” Bill said, patting her on the shoulder. “I’m sure the lead up to Christmas will be of interest to you…”

She scowled for a moment. “Right. It was good to meet you, Bill. You too, Charlie,” she added, turning to the more freckly Weasley, before addressing their mother. “And thank you again, Mrs Weasley, I really appreciate you taking me in and letting me be around my friends for the last week of summer.”

Mrs Weasley beamed down at her and pulled the girl in for a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a wonderful guest, Violet - don’t be a stranger next summer, alright?”

“Of course.”

With that, Violet hurried over to Harry, Hermione, and Ron - who had already said their goodbyes - and they boarded the Hogwarts Express, now tasked with finding an empty compartment to sit in. Thankfully, that didn’t take too long, and they got settled in quite nicely. As the train set off from the platform, they all gathered at the window to wave towards their families before the vehicle ultimately sped up and left them all in the distance.

Hermione and Ron sat on one bench, opposite Harry and Violet on the other. They were quiet for a moment, before they all had the same collective thought.

“What’s happening at Christmas?” Violet asked.

“What’s going on at Hogwarts this year?” Ron also questioned at the same time.

Silence, again.

“Scratch that - what were you and Bill talking about the other night?” Harry turned to Violet.

She groaned, realising the meaning behind his final words, and face palming.

“Oh no, what did he say?” Ron was worried now.

“Well… both he and my parents mentioned Christmas, but there was something more  _ pointed _ about the way Bill mentioned it…” Violet muttered. She bit her lip, and then ultimately bit the bullet. “He’s under the impression that I have a crush on Harry.”

“How did he come to that conclusion?” Hermione had raised an eyebrow as if questioning the elder Weasley brother, but there was something in the way she was looking at VIolet that seemed rather accusatory. It was as if she knew why Bill had spoken to her about it. Of course Hermione would be able to guess - she’d shared a room with Ginny for most of the summer, after all.

“Possibly because of how  _ Harry _ spoke about  _ me _ while staying at the Burrow.” Now it was Violet’s turn to throw the accusatory eye at Harry. The funniest part was that before he narrowed his eyes at her, his cheeks briefly turned a very light pink colour.

He regained his composure quickly. “Violet talks more during late night conversations. I mentioned that, didn’t I?” Harry shrugged as if it was the most simple of explanations.

Still sceptical of his reaction just now, and thinking of the moment they’d had under the tree in her back garden the previous month, Violet still followed up on that to save him from any further embarrassment on that subject. “Essentially, there’s been a couple of instances in the past year where Harry and I have been able to talk, and I’ve personally felt comfortable enough to share certain things about myself. You all know what I’m like. I kept the whole thing about my family hidden from you long enough - is it really that surprising I’d only tell one of you more about myself than the rest?”

She felt guilty for that, really, not sharing the same things with Hermione and Ron as she did with Harry, but she put that down to her deep rooted desire of being left alone - still. She liked her privacy, and she knew that somewhere down the line she would open up to Ron and Hermione more.

“To be completely fair to you, Violet, Harry has seen you in your more… vulnerable moments,” Hermione concluded. There was nothing malicious in her tone, and in fact she had turned quite soft. “It makes sense that you’d tell him different things. By no means does that mean you have a crush on him though, does it?”

“Absolutely not,” Violet reaffirmed. “And I’m pretty certain Harry doesn’t have a crush on me either, just so we’re all on the same page?”

“‘Course I don’t,” he told her. “Besides, who has time for that anyway?”

“Mate, literally you - Cho Chang? The Ravenclaw match?” Ron pointed out. Hermione smirked and pulled out a copy of the  _ Daily Prophet _ , which had a photo of Voldemort’s mark blasted right across the front page of it.

“Cho Chang?” Violet wasn’t entirely sure of who the girl was.

“Year above us. She’s Ravenclaw’s Seeker. Harry went a bit googly eyed at her during that match last year.”

Harry kicked Ron in the shin.

“Oi!”

“Knock it off,” the dark haired boy grumbled. “Besides, we have  _ got _ to talk about Violet’s reaction to Bill at the World Cup!”

“We really don’t…” Violet’s voice was strained, and she pulled a book out of her bag in an attempt to escape the conversation. “I was fine by the end of the week. It was nothing. Seriously.”

“And the whole thing with Cho was nothing either. I’m over it.”

“Tell yourself that rather than me…” Violet flipped open to her marked page in a nonchalant manner. There was a bit of an awkward silence, but it was probably for the best at that point. She then cleared her throat. “Anyway, weren’t we supposed to be speculating on what was going to be happening at Hogwarts this year?”

“I don’t think it matters what we think it is - we’ll be wrong,” Hermione said. “But the Christmas comment from your parents and Bill makes me believe there’ll be an event of some kind around that time.”

“Like what?”

“I have a few ideas…”

“Of course you bloody do…” Ron mumbled, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“How about we move on from this?” Violet then muttered. “Before we start spinning too many theories… Harry mentioned the other night to me he had a bad dream and wanted to share?”

“Oh! Yeah…” The boy in question sat up a little straighter before launching into a story of how he saw Voldemort, Pettigrew, the snake, and a third man who he didn’t recognise. They killed a Muggle man, and were talking about someone completing a task. Harry was clearly unnerved by the dream, particularly because it had made his scar hurt.

Whatever reaction he’d been hoping for, Violet knew he hadn’t been expecting her to stay quiet while Hermione and Ron spouted off about what he should do about his scar in particular. For the time being, she did what she did best: she listened. She waited. Then after some back and forth between the other three, Violet very quietly spoke up with a suggestion that she realised had not been thrown out yet.

“Have you told Sirius?” she asked.

“No - no I haven’t. That’s… that’s not a bad shout, actually. Thanks,” Harry said with a smile.

At that moment, the lady with the treats trolley stopped outside their door and asked if they wanted anything. Both Harry and Ron jumped up immediately while Hermione and Violet remained seated and struck up a conversation.

“So what happened with security at the World Cup, do you know?” Hermione asked Violet, who shook her head.

“I only said bye to my parents today, I didn’t really think about asking mum about what was going on. Her and dad only really wanted to reassure me that nothing had happened to them in the past week, but they’ve definitely been busy.”

“Dad said they had  _ loads _ of security,” Ron piped up when he sat back down with some sweets. “That’s why it’s been mental this week. Violet’s mum is probably chasing leads on Death Eaters.”

“More than likely, yes.”

Harry sat back down next to Violet, only without any sweets or chocolates, a slight smile on his face. Something had made him forget what they were currently talking about. Violet eyed him oddly, but thought nothing of it, despite the fact there was a strange, niggling feeling at the back of her mind telling her it was probably to do with a girl.

_ What the- _

Abruptly, Violet put down her book.

“I need some air,” she said, getting up and leaving the compartment, much to the bemusement of her friends.

The lady with the trolley wasn’t too far ahead of her, and Violet could see a trio of girls just beyond her. It made her wonder if it was them, and curiosity took over. She walked up the length of the train, watching as they moved into a compartment, and acted like she was waiting by an open window near them. She was close enough that she could hear them talking as they had not closed the door.

“He’s always staring at you!” said one girl.

“Oh - no he’s not,” said another, with a Scottish accent. She seemed quite shy.

“Come on, Cho, you told us about the Quidditch match…”

Violet’s jaw went taut, and she leaned with one arm up against the window. She mentally slapped herself, wondering why the  _ hell _ she was getting like this? It was just Harry. Her friend. Why was she getting so upset about the prospect of him staring at another girl? Or the idea of another girl clearly giving him butterflies in his tummy?

She thought back to that moment under the tree in her garden yet again, unaware that Harry was talking of exactly just that…

* * *

“Is she alright?” Ron asked as Violet left the compartment in a hurry. Harry was staring at the now empty spot next to him, and he reached over to play with Violet’s book for a moment, as something in him knew that her running out was because  _ she _ knew he was thinking about a girl. He innocently flipped through the pages and suddenly the image of her snapping her fingers directly in front of his face flashed right before his eyes.

“Something happened over the summer,” he said suddenly, dropping the book and giving his other two friends his full attention. “We had lunch, and were sitting under this tree in the garden, and… well… she caught me staring at her scars, but then… we just sort of… there was…”

“Did you kiss?”

Harry looked mildly off put by that. “What? No! There was a very obvious moment when she caught me staring. Snapped her fingers in my face, and her hand just hovered then until  _ I _ had to move it.”

“So were you lying earlier about having a crush?” Hermione asked.

“No.”

“Do you think  _ Violet _ was lying?”

“No - she wouldn’t lie. She might be just as confused as I am.”

“Say you did have a crush on her, would you act on it? Be honest.”

Harry was quiet for a minute as he thought about it carefully. Would he act on a crush on his friend? Maybe he would. It was Violet. Nothing would go horrifically wrong if - hypothetically - he admitted something like that to her, right?

“Probably, yeah. She’s… nice. But I don’t have a crush on her.”

Silence, once more.

Harry took a deep breath and stood up, reaching for his bag from the above storage space to grab a quill and some parchment so that he could start writing his letter to Sirius. As he was in the middle of that, Violet made a return to the compartment, considerably pensive. She went back to her book without a single word uttered, and Harry used Hedwig to send off his letter to Sirius.

Whatever awkward peace they had for the next half an hour was ruined by Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle deciding to poke their heads in and irritate them. Such was the error of Violet leaving the compartment door open, and she pinched the bridge of her nose when she realised it was too late.

“So you’re still hanging out with the Mute, then?” Malfoy goaded from the doorway.

“Firstly, maybe stop calling Violet that, and secondly, just because our door was open it didn’t mean we actually invited  _ you _ to join us,” Harry said coolly.

“How are you even friends with someone who doesn’t talk?”

“I only talk to people I like, Malfoy,” Violet glanced up from her book with a very dry smile on her face. “I don’t like to waste my breath. Please leave us alone.”

He looked back at his friends. “Can’t imagine  _ her  _ entering.” Malfoy turned to Ron. “What about you, Weasley? Want to bring a bit of glory to the family? Finally get some money?”

Ron went red, but still stood his ground. “What you on about?”

At this, Malfoy actually ended up laughing. “A father and a brother at the Ministry - and you don’t even know! Oh, this is  _ hilarious _ . My father told me  _ ages _ ago… Surprised you don’t know either, Merryworth - isn’t your mother an Auror? Thought they might have told someone who’s clearly got a death wish on their head out of pity, going after the Death Eaters...”

In an instant, Violet snapped her book shut loudly, and she was standing with her wand aimed at Malfoy, nostrils flaring. There were angry tears in her eyes, and the look on her face was enough for the three Slytherins to take a small step backwards. Even so, it didn’t stop them from laughing.

“We’re not worth your breath but worth a hex? Maybe a detention before the year has started?”

Violet took a few steps forward and Harry leapt out of his seat in front of her so he could grab her around the middle and stop her from going any further.

“Get off me, Harry-”

“Not. Worth. It,” he reminded her quietly. She made eye contact with him and a tear ran down her cheek, finally spilling over. Her shoulders slacked and she lowered her arm, but didn’t sit down until she watched the Slytherins completely leave the compartment.

Once they were gone, Harry closed the door and he turned back around to see Violet was sitting with her head in her hands, and her shoulders trembling. Ron and Hermione gave him rather pointed looks, so he sat down next to his friend and put an arm around her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t apologise,” Hermione said, reaching across and patting Violet on the knee. “He was completely out of order. He always is.”

“Don’t hold me back next time,” Violet then said, wiping her eyes and sniffing as she sat up straight, Harry dropping his arm as she did so. “If - if he steps over the line again, let me hex him.”

“I’ll join you next time. But he’s not worth getting into trouble over before the year’s started,” Harry said.

“Bloody prick…” Ron murmured. “I’ll have him if you two don’t.”

“It honestly doesn’t surprise me that he hasn’t learned when to stop even after I punched him,” Hermione added, earning a chuckle from Violet. That had been the intended effect of the comment, so the bushy haired girl smiled.

The rest of the journey still had a sour note to it after that. Even though Violet went back to her book, she would sniff every now and then and rub her eyes, as if trying to stop herself from crying again. She couldn’t keep what Malfoy had said out of her mind, no matter how hard she tried. Her friends left her be, while throwing her the odd worried glance, because they knew that at this moment in time, if they tried to talk about it again they wouldn’t get anywhere.

Then as if things couldn’t get any worse, a thunderstorm struck up as they neared Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably be dropping back to weekly updates on this! Hope that's alright with everyone :) It'll be every weekend (either Saturday or Sunday, depending!)


	26. Tournament Introductions

The weather definitely did not help anybody’s mood on the way up to the castle. Everybody was partially soaked going the short distance from the train to the carriages, and then once outside the school itself, became fully drenched when running towards the Entrance Hall. There was plenty of slipping and sliding once inside the castle, but everyone managed to make it to the Great Hall in one piece.

The Sorting Ceremony felt far too long. Violet wasn’t particularly enthused by the new first years, merely wishing for the feast to start as soon as possible so she could get to bed as soon as possible. This was now the second year in a row that she had been in less than good spirits for the start of term feast and she was sincerely hoping it didn’t keep up for the remainder of her time at Hogwarts.

By the time the feast started, Violet turned to Hermione with a frown. “Empty chair. Normally Dumbledore announces the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher before we eat,” she said. “You don’t think… maybe… he’s trying to  _ soften _ the blow and we’ve finally ended up with Snape?”

“How much was it I owed you if we did have Snape?” Harry asked her from across the table. Violet hung her head down, exasperated. “Oh, god, sorry…”

“Hang on - did you two have a bet you weren’t going to tell anyone about?” Fred asked, catching onto the topic of conversation.

* * *

_ “Ten Galleons if it’s Snape?” Violet suggested, causing Harry to groan from her bedroom floor. It made her giggle and lean up on one elbow to look down at him from her bed. “What?” _

_ “Too high. How about five if it’s Snape?” _

_ “Fine. What’s your end of the bet then?” _

_ Harry lay back in thought for a moment. “Hmm. I’d say five Galleons on some sort of celebrity or legend becoming our next Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.” _

_ “Broad.” _

_ “You took Snape first!” _

_ Violet sighed, then stuck out her hand for Harry to shake. “Fine. Done deal.” _

_ He grinned at her as they shook hands. _

* * *

“Yes, we did,” Violet said, looking up at Fred.

“We should make it a thing,” George said.

“This wasn’t even…” she sighed. “Yeah, make it a thing I guess…”

“Atta girl, Vi, just let it happen…”

She went back to her food after that, namely picking it at it because she had little to no appetite after what had happened on the train. She could feel her friends staring at her, the three of them extremely worried. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help feeling the way she did right now, and she certainly wasn’t going to force herself to eat because it would ultimately make her feel worse.

Violet tried her best to push everything to the back of her mind, which was helped when Dumbledore stood to make yet another speech. That was odd, he never usually spoke twice.

“Now that you’re all well fed, I thought it might be the right time to announce that this year, Hogwarts will be playing host to a legendary event: the Triwizard Tournament,” Dumbledore then announced. That caused a great amount of chatter and excitement among the students’ even Violet perked up.

“Now  _ this _ has got to be what my parents and Bill were on about!” she hissed across the table to Harry and Ron.

“For those unfamiliar with the Tournament, it brings together three magical schools to participate in three tasks; extremely  _ dangerous _ tasks. Due to this, the Ministry of Magic has decided that no student under the age of seventeen should be allowed to enter the tournament.”

That caused an uproar among some of the older students, but the headmaster managed to get them all the hush. Fred and George were particularly vocal in their disagreement with the newly imposed rule.

“But… eternal glory awaits the person who wins the tournament. A witch or wizard from each school shall be chosen by an impartial judge, which shall be revealed in October when our guests from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and Durmstrang arrive,” he carried on. “There, we will-”

At that point, the enchanted ceiling went into overdrive with the thunderstorm, with lightning almost striking down on both the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. It caused more of a fearful outcry from the students (who were almost ready to flee) when suddenly it was calmed by a beam of magic, coming from the back corner of the Great Hall by the staff table. Everyone looked over, and Violet let out a squeak.

“What?” Harry asked.

“That’s - that’s Mad-Eye - I mean, Alastor Moody,” she said, and they all watched as the man stepped - or rather clunked on his wooden leg - forward to greet Dumbledore.

“As in the Auror?” Hermione clarified.

“Yes.”

“Auror?” Dean Thomas asked, a little confused.

“My mum’s one…” Violet told him. “They catch dark wizards, and it’s due to Moody that half the cells in Azkaban are full. My mum worked with him briefly after the First Wizarding War. He helped train up another lady… oh - her name was Nymphadora Tonks, I believe…”

“What’s Mad-Eye doing here, though?” Ron wondered.

That question was answered soon enough.

“I suppose now is a good time to announce that your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year will be Alastor Moody!” Dumbledore announced. There was some rather faint, confused clapping that echoed throughout the hall.

Harry and Violet locked eyes across the table, the latter’s going wide as a doe’s.

“Oh no…”

At those words, a smile slowly slid onto Harry’s face.

“Does he count as a celebrity or legend?”

“He does…” Violet groaned. “I’ll give you the money tomorrow morning…”

“...Should all be heading off to bed now!” Dumbledore had finished talking, and all the students began to hurry after their Prefects.

Everyone was murmuring about the Triwizard Tournament on the way out of the Great Hall, and the Weasley twins had already started thinking up a scheme to try and enter.

Violet remained quiet, her thoughts now drifting to that of Alastor Moody being their new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. She couldn’t wait for it, in all honesty: he’d been an Auror for a very long time before retiring, so he was bound to share a more profound knowledge than any other teacher could about the subject. As much as she had picked up from her mum here and there, she knew there was going to be more of a merit of learning from Moody in the grand scheme of things.

On getting to Gryffindor Tower, Violet made a beeline straight for the girls; dormitory, not even bothering to say good night to anybody. She was exhausted. She was still actively trying not to think about what had happened earlier on. She just wanted to wake up for the first day of school in an actual good mood.

Which is exactly what happened: the next morning, she felt more like herself again. Not one hundred percent, and admittedly she was the last one down to the Great Hall out of her friends, but at least she felt ready for lessons.

“How are you this morning?” Hermione asked, buttering some toast.

“Better than yesterday.”

“Are you sure?”

“Um, yes, why?”

“Well…” Hermione tilted her head to the side, her brow knotted ever so slightly. “Your hair’s down. The only other times I’ve seen that is during exams when you’re stressed.”

Violet didn’t say anything, and combed her fingers awkwardly through her elbow length hair before throwing it over the front of one shoulder. “Yes. Well. Can’t be helped,” she eventually answered before also getting herself some toast.

Ron passed her her timetable, saying “we’re outside all morning. Least the weather’s eased up a bit.”

“True,” she said, nibbling on her toast. Violet still didn’t quite have an appetite back, but was hungry enough to have that small bit of breakfast.

After that, the four of them headed down to Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid, where they had to pretend to be enthused by Blast Ended Skrewts while feeding them. The fact that this was going to be a term long project was not at all pleasing. The day didn’t get much better as in Herbology they had to extract pus from Bubotubers (Violet had a near miss with some puss squirting towards her suddenly and nearly going in her face).

“Do I just have really bad luck at the moment?” she wasn’t happy in the slightest as they headed back up to the castle at the start of lunch. “That could have burnt my face off!”

“Can’t be that bad luck if it missed you,” Harry pointed out. “By the way, you still owe me five Galleons.”

“Oh, right, of course,” she mumbled, fishing around in her pockets until she found the coins and dropped them into Harry’s outstretched palm.

“Don’t forget we have double Divination this afternoon as well…” Ron added.

“Brilliant. Fourth year so far has been awful.”

“Come on, Violet, it’s only the first day! There’s plenty of time for things to get a lot better,” Hermione said brightly in an effort to cheer her up. “If you want, you can always read over any Arithmancy homework I might get later?”

She seemed to soften at that. “Oh, alright.”

Just when Violet thought things were actually going to get better, they got worse.

Far, far worse.

“How’s your mum, little one?” The all too familiar voice of Dexter Oaks called out from further down the courtyard. Violet stopped and turned to find her cocky cousin approaching her, flanked by his group of friends. 

Harry, Hermione, and Ron stood firmly by Violet when they realised her attention had gone elsewhere.

“She’s fine, thank you, Dexter,” she replied calmly. “How’s Fletcher?”

Dexter was taken aback, but more of in a mocking sort of way. “Isn’t that  _ Uncle _ Fletcher to you?”

“He’s no more of an uncle to me than my mum is an aunt to you,” Violet said through gritted teeth. “And Lamia? How’s she?”

“Have it your way… they’re both fine, actually. Finding it rather funny that their blood traitor sister is on their tail.”

Violet inhaled sharply, really restraining herself from doing anything stupid. A crowd was beginning to form around them, made up of students from all the houses. She did her best to ignore them and focus on ending the conversation with Dexter before anything too rash happened.

“What do you get out of this, Dexter? I’m three years younger than you, don’t you have someone your own size to pick on?” She was beginning to get angry now, under the surface there was something bubbling away, and her fingers twitched next to the pocket where her wand was.

Dexter shrugged. “You could have been something, little one. Your family could have been something  _ good _ if your mother hadn’t married that Mudblood, you do realise that?” He was trying to push her over the edge, and it was working.

“My family is perfectly fine, thank you very much,” Violet managed to get out.

He snorted. “I’d never let a werewolf into  _ my _ family-”

Violet was so angry that the moment she dropped her bag and whipped her wand out to throw a spell at Dexter, she didn’t even need to  _ say it _ and suddenly his legs were locked together. He was flailing his arms, trying to keep his balance, and managed to reach for his wand. All students backed away from the pair and formed a circle around them instead.

The Ravenclaws were begging Dexter to stop, the Slytherins were egging him on, the Gryffindors were cheering on Violet (meanwhile Hermione was going on about non-verbal magic), and a second year Hufflepuff ran off proclaiming they were going to get a teacher.

“ _ Impedimenta! _ ” he shouted. Violet’s next motion was slowed down entirely, but she still managed to cast her next charm.

“ _ Accio bench _ !” she said, just as the jinx wore off, and all the students ducked as one of the nearby benches in the courtyard came flying over their heads and straight into Dexter’s side, knocking him flat to the ground. His wand flew out of his hand, and he couldn’t reach it for the life of him: his legs were still locked together.

Violet stormed over to him, ready to hex or jinx or curse him again, when Harry ran forward into the circle and grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides.

“Get - get off me!” she cried at him, struggling to break out of her friend’s grip.

“Violet, you’ve - you’ve made your point, he’s Disarmed!”

She elbowed him in the ribs and he let go of her. What Harry didn’t expect was to train her wand on him with tears in her eyes. Harry took out his wand too, almost regrettably though. The circle of students had gone deathly silent.

“You - you said you wouldn’t hold me back,” she said to him, her bottom lip trembling. “I thought that would have - would have counted for  _ him _ , too…”

“It does. But he’s on the floor, Violet,” Harry said. “You won, okay? You won.”

She was shaking her head, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “I haven’t - not until he  _ stops this, _ I’ll never win.”

“Violet…” Was that pity on his face? Sympathy? She wasn’t sure, but it let her know he understood she was hurting, but at the same time didn’t want her to get into trouble. Somehow, the use of her name broke through to her that he was right: Dexter was on the floor, Disarmed, and if she had done anything more to him, she would have been just as awful as her cousin. She would have unintentionally proved whatever point Dexter had been trying to make.

Breathing heavily, Violet finally pocketed her wand and started to walk towards Harry who also pocketed his wand. He had her bag in his other hand, and gave it back to her. She didn’t look at her friend and opted to stare at her feet, but soon enough her view was Harry’s shoulder as he pulled her towards him for a hug that she had no effort to return. She was completely drained at this point. He didn’t care that she didn’t return the hug.

“What on  _ earth _ is going on here?” came a rather angry Scottish voice. “All of you - unless you had something to do with this - off to lunch where you should be!”

Tens of pairs of feet could be heard scampering away inside the castle, but Violet still refused to look up from Harry’s shoulder.

“Miss Merryworth…” McGonagall said to Violet, resting a hand on the teenager’s shoulder. “Miss Merryworth, perhaps you’d like to bring Mr Potter with you while we discuss your punishment?”

At that point, she finally stood up straight again, and shrugged out from Harry’s arms, and McGonagall lowered her hand. She glanced over at Dexter who was currently getting his legs unlocked by Flitwick.

“Professor… I - I threw the first curse…” Violet then mumbled, which took her Head of House by surprise.

“She was provoked, Professor,” Harry then explained.

“To my office, the both of you.” She turned on her heel and the pair followed her. Ron and Hermione simply watched as their friends were led back into the castle.

It didn’t take long for them to get to the first floor. McGonagall’s office was in a small room next door to the Transfiguration classroom, and while it was cosy, it was also very prim, proper, and ordered. It really did reflect their teacher in that regard.

Harry and Violet sat themselves down at the desk opposite McGonagall, who had the look of someone that couldn’t believe she was already having to punish a student on the first day of term.

“Miss Merryworth, I understand that you have a complicated relationship with your family members, but it does not mean you can duel on school grounds like that! In any case, it could be grounds for expulsion-”

Violet’s eyes widened.

“-But…” McGonagall continued. “Considering your usually impeccable record, and taking into account the previous incident with your cousin, that won’t be the case this time. You will be serving weeknight detentions with me for the next month, and fifty points will be deducted from Gryffindor. I will also be writing to your parents.”

Violet nodded.

“Do you want to explain why you threw the first curse at Mr Oaks?”

“Well…” Violet began in a rather dry, monotonous voice. “I didn’t take kindly to him calling my dad a Mudblood, making a jab at Lupin, and finding it funny that my mother has to effectively try to prove that his parents are Death Eaters. That on top of a few similar comments that Draco Malfoy made on the train yesterday…”

McGonagall nodded. “I see. And is it true you cast the spell non-verbally?”

“I - um - y-yes,” Violet said, going pink. “I don’t know how or why… I suppose - maybe I was angry enough and thinking hard enough about the leg-locking curse, I just… and reading about it over the summer has helped too, I guess.”

“Quite right.” McGonagall was trying to remain impartial, even though it was clear she was quite impressed with her student. “Miss Merryworth, you have a good friend in Mr Potter, here. I’m glad to see that. Off you go.”

They were out the door as quickly as possible, and started to head towards the Great Hall in silence, neither of them sure what to say to the other. That was until they could hear remarks from passing students, who actively tried to walk out of Violet’s way as much as possible.

“Don’t want to get hexed by Mad Merryworth…” a Slytherin girl muttered to her friend, and similar comments were being made by all houses except for the Gryffindors.

Violet kept her head down, and Harry kept reminding her quietly to ignore it.

Hermione wasn’t with Ron at the Gryffindor table, and he was sitting there eating on his own until Harry and Violet joined him. Seeing the look on the girl’s face, he elected not to ask about what McGonagall had said. While the boys chatted, Violet could barely eat. She picked at her food as she had a tendency to do when her stomach felt like it was in a knot.

That feeling made Divination almost unbearable, but thankfully she, Harry, and Ron chose a table that was tucked away in the corner of the room, away from the prying eyes of other people. How she managed to just about pay attention to Professor Trelawney was absolutely beyond her. 

What she hadn’t been expecting was the reception she received in the Gryffindor Common Room once lessons had finished for the day, particularly from the sixth and seventh years.

“Never thought I’d see anyone take on Dexter Oaks!” a seventh year told her. “Thank you - just,  _ thank you. _ ”

“Violet, nobody cares you lost us points - all he does is bully the younger years,” Angelina Johnson reassured her. When Violet raised an eyebrow in regards to the house points comment, Angelina quickly backtracked. “Okay maybe people are a bit annoyed, but in the grand scheme of things… you’ll probably earn them back quicker than other people do.”

“You did something spectacular today, Vi,” Fred Weasley said to her, coming to throw an arm around her along with George, and they led her to the sofa and sat her down.

“Dexter Oaks deserved every bit of what you threw at him,” George said.

“ _ And _ you used magic non-verbally! That’s not something we learn about until our sixth year!” Hermione said very excitedly as she sat down in the armchair next to the sofa. “I need to come and see your book collection…”

How had something that broke plenty of school rules earned Violet comments like those from her fellow housemates? Why weren’t they more angry? Had Dexter  _ really _ been that bad and she hadn’t known? Her head was spinning, and she couldn’t take in any more of what anybody was saying. She tried to smile, nod politely, maybe answer a question here or there, but she felt like she was drifting from her body.

Violet wanted nothing more - in that moment - to disappear back into the shadows as per her first and second year here, and keep quiet, do her homework, and not end up in situations like this. Not be the centre of attention. It made her wonder if she was still without friends, would she still have Duelled her cousin that lunchtime? Probably. Nothing would have stopped him making the same comments. The only difference was that she wouldn’t have had Harry to stop her from being so rash.

She made eye contact with him, briefly. He was sitting on the floor opposite her. A sense of calm washed over Violet and she felt more like herself again, and more engaged in what she was being asked. She realised, it didn’t matter how quickly they looked at each other in that moment, she  _ felt it _ again. Violet felt something between them, and she did her best to ignore, aware of the fact that Harry’s jaw had dropped open ever so slightly.

Violet ignored it. This was not the time.


	27. Alastor Moody

Needless to say, Violet’s parents were not impressed with her in the slightest. It was the first time they’d been angry with her - as far as she could tell over a letter she received from them a couple of days later - and they appeared to be confused about that very prospect indeed. They couldn’t even decide what they were angry about.

_ Violet, _

_ We got the letter from Professor McGonagall. You shouldn’t have been Duelling on school grounds! We thought you knew better than that. Yes, Dexter probably deserved it but you should have taken the high road there… and losing fifty points for Gryffindor? Unacceptable. Completely and totally unacceptable. Make sure you earn those back. You definitely deserve the punishment you got. _

_ Really, we’re shocked you even got into this much trouble. We never knew our daughter to be a troublemaker but here we are. Try and keep your head down as much as you can, Violet, we don’t want to be getting any more owls from the school… _

_ Out of curiosity, did you really cast the spell non-verbally? If that is true, well, we’re definitely impressed. We’re still angry, but very impressed you were able to do that. Dexter really made you mad, didn’t he? We’ve mailed back McGonagall, and she’ll be giving us updates about your behaviour because really… we wouldn’t have expected this from our daughter. _

_ Mum and dad _

She passed the letter to Harry who read through it entirely befuddled. “They… they really don’t know how to react, do they?”

“They’re trying so hard to be angry with me but they’re also congratulating me at the same time?” Violet responded when Harry handed the letter back to her. “They’ve never been angry with me before. I’ve never given them a reason to be.”

“Maybe we’re a bad influence on you,” Ron laughed.

Before Violet could respond, Virgil kept continually pecking at her in a bid for attention. “Hey -  _ hey _ , stop it… what’s up?”

It was then she noticed there was another letter inside the envelope of the one her parents had sent. Her heart sank, and she knew exactly who it was from. Slowly, she pulled out the second letter, unfolded the paper, and began to read.

_ Violet, _

_ Don’t tell your parents that this is what I wrote, but I’m quite proud of you for standing up to Dexter after what happened last year. Get the house points back, and try to keep the non-verbal spells under wraps… the extra reading might have gone a bit too far this time. _

_ Remus _

“Lovely,” she remarked, folding up Lupin’s letter and resting it atop the one from her parents. “Meanwhile, Lupin is singing my praises - quietly, for that matter.”

“Well, he saw firsthand how mental you could be…” Ron said.

She rolled her eyes. “Cheers, Ron, not like I have half the school calling me ‘Mad Merryworth’ or anything…”

It was true. The nickname had spread like wildfire, particularly among the Ravenclaws and Slytherins. There were a few brave Hufflepuffs who joined in too, but for the most part they usually kept quiet. A lot of students had opted for giving Violet a wide berth when passing her in the corridor, and at first it annoyed her, but then she realised all it did was pave a way for her to get to class on time or early. That was definitely going to have its uses for however long it kept up.

“At least we have our first lesson with Moody today,” Violet decided to swiftly change the subject. “If he’s anything like mum said he is, we’re in for a treat.”

Virgil began nibbling at Violet again, only more affectionately this time. She sighed, patted him on the head and fed him a bit of toast before he finally flew off.

“He’s very impatient,” she commented on her father’s owl. “Dad spoils him far too much…”

“Like you don’t spoil Astra?” Hermione said. “I’ve seen the treats you give her when she’s flown to our dorm before…”

“Astra doesn’t bite,” Violet said as she packed the letters into her bag. “Shall we head to class with Moody?”

Even though the other three did agree to it, they couldn’t help but notice how quickly Violet was changing topics that morning. There was something slightly more erratic about her that morning, and the three of them wondered if it was to do with the letters, or the fact she was about to walk straight into a lesson with someone who her mother knew (yet again, for the second year running). It was probably a mixture of both, as well as the students calling her a name.

Violet had unintentionally been walking a few steps in front of them, but the moment the whispers of “Mad Merryworth” started up in the corridors, Harry caught up a few paces and walked beside her. She smiled at him gratefully, and they carried on to Defence Against the Dark Arts in silence.

Class was intense, to the say the least.

Moody introduced himself to the fourth years and went on a heated tirade about why he was definitely the best option as their teacher and how they needed to be prepared for whatever dark forces were outside of Hogwarts. The most interesting - yet squeamish - part about him as a teacher, was the array of insects he kept jars and other glass containers on his desk.

This was definitely not going to be like Lupin’s classes the previous year whatsoever. There was the feeling like they were all holding their breath whenever there was a lapse in Moody’s ranting as they all stared at him, transfixed by his ramblings and by his magical eye too.

“Miss Merryworth!” he barked at Violet. “I can trust you  _ won’t _ be hexing anybody in my classroom unless I give you permission to do so?”

She chewed on her bottom lip for a second, frozen in shock at what he just said. A snigger from further across the room told her that Malfoy had enjoyed that.

“No - no sir. I won’t hex anyone unless you say,” she squeaked out.

“How’s your mother?”

“Fine, sir,” her voice was becoming strained now.

“Good. An excellent Auror - you’d do well to follow in her footsteps.”

“Yes, sir.” Really,  _ really _ strained.

“Could you tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?” Moody then asked, turning back to the chalkboard and writing.

“Three, sir. Any use of them will send you to Azkaban.”

“Correct!” He faced the front of the class again, his magical eye swivelling in various unnerving directions and finally landing on Ron. “Weasley - name one.”

“Well - dad - he told me about one,” Ron explained, struggling to get his words out. He’d probably been the most excited out of the four of them, but the nature of the class had gotten to him in some way. “The Imperius Curse?”

Moody was impressed. “Oh yeah, your dad would know all about that one… Gave the Ministry a bit of grief a few years ago. Perhaps this’ll show you why…”

As he went over to one of his many jars of insects, Violet turned to Harry. “Is he seriously going to… going to  _ show them _ ?” she hissed at him, shooting a worried glance at Moody, hoping that he didn’t hear her.

“I mean… looks like it…”

As they gave their teacher their full attention again, he had used the enlargement charm on a spider in his palm. With his wand pointed at it, he cast: “ _ Imperio! _ ”

Violet’s eyebrows shot into her hairline. He was really going there. She wasn’t enthused at all by that, nor when the spider ended up on the desk in front of her and Harry. It wasn’t that Violet was scared of spiders - because she wasn’t - but it was more to do with the fact it had been enlarged and was being cursed right in front of her that made her visibly uncomfortable. She couldn’t help but feel for Ron when it hovered above him, and a small amount of glee when it was right on Malfoy’s face.

All in all, to her it served as a pretty good example of the Imperius Curse. Not that they needed to actually be  _ shown _ the example, in her mind.

When they moved onto the second Unforgivable Curse, there was something about the way Moody had Neville watch the spider be tortured by the Cruciatus Curse that really didn’t sit right with her. The way he was wincing and twitching, trying to keep a horrified gaze on the spider sickened Violet to her stomach. Before she could even open her mouth to say something, Hermione had stepped up and was telling Moody to  _ stop because it was bothering him. _

The tension that Violet held in her shoulders during those few frightful moments eased, and she slouched back down into her seat thoroughly exhausted.

“Perhaps you’d like to tell us the last Unforgivable Curse, Miss Granger?” Moody asked, as he took the spider over to Hermione’s desk. She shook her head with tears in her eyes. “ _ Avada Kedavra! _ ” 

The spider was dead.

“The Killing Curse…” Moody growled. “Only one person has been known to survive it. And he’s sitting in this room.”

Violet’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly when he saw how he was looking at Harry. It didn’t seem right. This entire lesson didn’t seem right. For the rest of it she kept her head down and took notes, like the good student that she was. If Moody asked her a question she would answer it swiftly. She didn’t want him to find some sort of excuse to linger on her - not like he did at the start.

He ended the class by yelling out the words “constant vigilance!” as if that was meant to be their key takeaway from him.

The minute they were all out of the classroom, Violet shuddered. Meanwhile, Ron was in total awe as they headed down the staircase.

“He’s brilliant, isn’t he? Mad as a hatter but… he’s really been there, you know?”

“Plenty of other Aurors have been there without bringing the Unforgivable Curses into a  _ classroom _ !” Violet snapped. “That’s not right. My mother could tell you that much, Ronald.”

“Bloody hell, calm down…”

“She’s right,” Hermione said. “I mean, did you see Neville’s face?”

Harry frantically tapped Hermione on the arm because she hadn’t noticed that they were about to pass a rather forlorn looking Neville on the staircase. The four of them stopped to see if he was alright, which was when Moody popped up and took the boy away for a cup of tea.

They all glanced at each other, not sure if they should wait around, but elected to keep moving as they were blocking the staircase. They had a short break before heading to Transfiguration, where they began learning how to turn hedgehogs into pin cushions. It was a frightfully complex lesson for the boys in particular, who were grateful for lunchtime to come around.

Hermione ate rather speedily and disappeared off to the library leaving the other three to chat idly before they headed off to yet another double Divination lesson that afternoon. There, they went more in depth on planetary alignments and were told to carry on with their horoscopes for homework.

In the Common Room later that afternoon (still with no sign of Hermione, to which they assumed she was still in the library), Violet found it rather amusing how the boys were reacting to their current Divination lessons. Particularly because they were inventing horoscopes.

“I don’t know why you two are making this up - this is just like Muggle astrology,” Violet explained. When both Harry and Ron gave her blank looks, she carried on talking. “Star signs? Harry, I believe you’re a Leo Sun.”

“Oh!” It finally clicked in Harry’s brain - at least, some of it did. “Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“Well… think about it. You were born under a Leo Sun. That’s your  _ main _ sort of personality. Meanwhile your Moon sign is to do with your emotions, and your Rising sign is how you present yourself. All the stuff we’re doing right now with planets are to do with our… planetary houses.”

Ron was still completely befuddled. “How do you know all that?!”

“I read about other kinds of magic. The kind that Muggles well and truly believe in,” Violet said. “It’s all a bit of fun.”

“Or maybe it’s an extension of Kate Bush…” Harry muttered, trying to avoid eye contact with Violet. There was a moment of deathly silence, which Ron broke.

“Who’s Kate Bush?”

“We’re not having this conversation again…” Violet ignored Ron and got straight to the point.

Harry held up his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, most straight Muggles don’t look  _ that _ deeply into horoscopes!”

“And most straight Muggles also don’t make googly eyes at Bill Weasley and his fang earring,” she retorted. “I  _ know _ I wasn’t the only one who did, Harry!”

“You were doing  _ what?” _ Ron was very much trying his best to keep up, but Violet waved him off and shuffled closer to Harry.

“Drop it,” she hissed at him.

“Only if you do,” he finally looked at her, as if trying to challenge her. Violet scowled and then relaxed back in her seat. There was a very awkward moment of silence that was only broken by the three friends’ resuming of writing on parchment, until Violet spoke up with a change in topic again.

“I should probably reply to my parents’ owl… but more to tell them about what we learned in class today with Moody…”

“Seeing if he’s always been like that?” Harry asked.

“Something like that, yes… I know he can be a bit paranoid, and it’s obvious there’s a genuine concern there for us to be ready for whatever bad thing is out there, but… doing  _ that _ for a first lesson with fourth years? That’s something else,” she answered.

Ron shrugged. “I thought it was brilliant. Maybe  _ you’re _ being paranoid.”

“Careful. I’m being  _ careful. _ Besides, haven’t all our Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers so far had some sort of dark secret? Quirrell had Voldemort on the back of his head, Lockhart was a massive fraud, and Lupin’s a werewolf.”

There was no disagreeing with that, so Violet set to work penning out a letter to her mother (that also addressed the letter she had received from the woman that morning), and Hermione resurfaced from the library and checked their Divination homework before heading down to dinner.

After dinner, Violet went to the Owlery to send the letter to her mother and then headed to her detention with McGonagall, which followed the same structure as the past few days. She’d sit at one of the desks in the Transfiguration classroom with her teacher, and do any remaining homework in silence. If she finished her work, she was allowed to read through any class textbooks she might have on her. Violet got the impression that deep down, McGonagall didn’t actually want to be doing this and was fully aware that she was still the same studious, quiet girl - only, she’d been pushed to the edge the other day.

If anything, Violet considered herself lucky that McGonagall hadn’t taken away her Hogsmeade privileges for the term, as that was something she’d expected. That lack of very obvious punishment there was why she had the theory that the detentions were merely a facade. After all, Dexter had been the one to finally provoke her.

When she got back to the Common Room later that night, it was beginning to empty out as people started to head up to bed. Usually Violet would do the same, but this particular night Harry was still up, flicking through  _ Confronting the Faceless, _ the book she had gotten him for Christmas the previous year. She went and sat next to him on the floor by the fire.

“I’m surprised you’re not asleep yet,” she said, pulling off her cloak and using it as a makeshift blanket over her crossed legs.

“Well, I was waiting for you,” he said, closing the book. “You’ve had an interesting week, haven’t you?”

She shrugged awkwardly, trying to wave it off. “I suppose so, yeah.”

“Do you… wanna go to the  _ room _ ?”

“I’d love to, but… maybe when my detention sentence is over?” Violet suggested, a slightly pained look on her face.

She really wanted nothing more than alone time with her closest friend to just talk and let time run away from them the same way they would use that room to run away from the world and be safe. The projected stars above them making the room feel endless, making their souls feel infinite. That was how she thought of the room at this point in time, but she also knew that she had to be sensible for now. No night time wanderings.

Only a little dejected, Harry did agree. “Yeah, good point… another time?”

“Definitely. We’ve got the whole year ahead of us. We’ll wait until the right moment.”

He nodded, a small yet nervous smile on his face. “Yeah. Well. Night, Violet.”

The way Harry hurried off up to bed threw Violet a little bit, but she thought nothing of it.


	28. New Arrivals

The term would have gone on normally, were it not to the extra amount of homework the teachers were setting them all; nothing that Hermione or Violet couldn’t handle, but the rest of their classes couldn’t help but complain. Dean Thomas pointed out how their O.W.L exams weren’t until the end of their fifth year, and McGonagall rebuffed that fact during a Transfiguration lesson since they all needed to work up to the exams regardless.

The detentions with McGonagall also slowly drew to a close for Violet, and her Head of House even permitted her to stop coming to them (but suggested hiding out in the library during that time so other students in Gryffindor didn’t perceive favouritism). Only Hermione knew about this, because it was her that Violet would spend time with in the library studying on that final week.

Admittedly, Violet did get a little distracted and ended up finding books on the Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs in an effort to understand what other Wizarding schools were like.

“I don’t think I like the ideals of Durmstrang at all,” Violet murmured quietly at some point around eight thirty one Wednesday night. She’d tossed her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework to one side in a scattering of parchment (much to the chagrin of Hermione) and would rather wait until she had time with Harry to do it.

“Because they don’t admit Muggle borns?”

Violet nodded. “That, and they teach Dart Arts as a subject. Admittedly, learning about that on a  _ theoretical _ basis wouldn’t be horrific, but something tells me it extends further than that. I dread to think what students might be like.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t judge too quickly,” Hermione offered. “On the students, I mean,” she then added quickly. “The same goes for the Beauxbatons; although I have reason to believe their school encompasses the beauty of magic a lot more.”

“Oh, I agree with you there,” Violet replied and she quickly flicked back a few pages and scanned one until she found what she was looking for. “For example, they adorn the castle with ice sculptures that don’t melt during the Christmas period. Seems much more delicate than just giant Christmas trees, don’t you think?” she asked, now closing the book shut and pushing it to one side. Hermione glanced up from her Arithmancy homework to throw her friend a brief smile.

“Maybe. I didn’t think you’d be so into… pretty things,” she said.

Violet shrugged and started to make amendments to a History of Magic essay. “Harry could tell you otherwise.”

“Ah. Of course.” Hermione rolled her eyes but there was a smirk on her face. Violet stopped in her messy corrections.

“Okay fine. Maybe I  _ have _ spent too much time with him… that’s why when McGonagall said I didn’t have to sit with her this week I came straight to you… instead of getting Harry to come to the library,” she admitted. “I expect Harry told you and Ron what happened in my garden, then?”

Hermione put down her quill and sat up straight with her arms folded. She wasn’t staring at Violet in a calculated way as such, but perhaps it was more of a look of careful consideration for how to even go about this conversation. “Yes. He did. And I expect you know about the fact Ginny likes him?”

Now they were both smirking at each other, because they’d both played their needed hands there. “Obviously. Nothing’s going to come out of it. Honestly.” Violet paused for a moment. “Do you know how lonely I was, Hermione?”

“No… but I can honestly imagine. Being the… well,  _ quirky one _ , shall we say? At a Muggle school, no less,” she said rather pointedly, and Violet’s heart dropped.  _ Of course Hermione would know…  _ “You’ve always found it easier to talk to Harry over me, haven’t you?”

Violet shifted uneasily in her chair, wishing that what Hermione was saying right now wasn’t true but it was - it unfortunately, and uncomfortably was. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I’m glad I’m here with you now, instead of either of the boys. It’s nice. Really nice. Sorry I drifted away from you a lot over the past couple of years.”

“You don’t need to apologise. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“We should do this more often, shouldn’t we?”

“Definitely,” the relief was paramount in Hermione’s voice, and she pushed her own homework aside for a moment to place a heavy tome on the table instead. “Especially because I need a bit of help with something.”

Intrigued, Violet raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“I’ve been here in the library a lot during lunch times because of the fact that house elves are slaves, essentially, and Hogwarts has the largest dwelling of them. Everything here is run by slave labour, and I want to do something useful to help.”

“You know, I’d never thought of it like that before…”

Hermione balked. “So you knew about the house elves at Hogwarts?”

“Yes,” Violet sighed. “You’ve got to understand that wizards are very different to Muggles in this regard. As far as I’m aware, the house elves here at Hogwarts are happy. Or at least that’s what Uncle Remus mentioned to me briefly over the summer - he used to sneak down to the kitchens a lot with his friends, you see.” She took a moment to consider her next words. She hadn’t been prepared for what her friend had been about to say. “I’ll help you try to help them all you want, Hermione, because it’s a very noble and good thing you want to do, but don’t expect the house elves to want it as well, okay? You’ll have to expect resistance.”

“Really? Resistance?”

“Oh goodness yes.”

“I see… well, I’m glad you want to help. It means a lot.”

“No problem. And hey - off topic - but I’ve been doing some reading about the Triwizard Tournament… suppose you have, too?” When her friend nodded, Violet continued. “So when do you think we should let Harry and Ron know that traditionally, it involves a winter ball?”

Hermione chuckled. “Obviously  _ never _ .”

“Perfect.”

The two girls set to work until it got too late and they ended up having to sneak back to Gryffindor Tower. Thankfully, they weren’t caught and nor were either of the boys still awake by the time they rolled in around midnight.

The remainder of the week a frenzy took over the students as they eagerly awaited the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs on the Friday. The castle had - in the meantime - been prepped to be as clean as possible, and various notices had been pinned up around the school about the fact that lessons would finish early on that Friday. All they had to do was get through the rest of the week, which was made somewhat trickier by Snape being as painful as ever, and Moody… well, that was something else entirely.

Violet had confided in her friends that her mother thought it odd that he wanted to show them the Unforgivable Curses, but he was well and truly that paranoid about dark wizards. They had to let it slide, but to keep her updated.

So the fact that he decided to use the Imperius Curse on all of them during a lesson was more reason to worry indeed.

He wanted them to resist it, but try as most students might it was apparently near impossible. Until it got to Harry, of course. It appeared that Moody had wanted him to jump on one of the desks but instead he crashed right into it. Rightly so, Moody gave Harry all the praise in the world for that since he’d put up a better fight than the rest of them.

Then it was Violet’s turn.

She got up to the front of the class and braced herself for the curse to take over.

Except when it did, she barely had time to acknowledge the overwhelming sense of relaxation and being free of worry because she was already jumping from desk to desk on one foot. In fact, due to how quickly the curse took over her in comparison to the other students, Moody lifted it as soon as he could, staring at her in complete shock.

Immediately going pink in the face and avoiding looking at her classmates, Violet hurried over back to her friends who she could feel were as equally dumbfounded by what happened as she was. She desperately tried not to think about it.

When class was over, Harry took her by the hand and pulled her away from the throng and instead of going down to lunch, they headed up the stairs. She knew immediately where he was taking her, and she let him do it. She knew he was saving her the questions from Ron and Hermione, the murmurs from the other students about  _ why did Merryworth get taken over by the Imperius Curse so quickly? _ and was going to give her a reprieve in the room.

Violet didn’t realise how much she was shaking until they were in the quiet, starry room. Even though it had been a while since they’d been there, she couldn’t appreciate it in all its glory - not now, at least. She was too preoccupied with what had just happened.

Harry led her to the beanbags and they collapsed into them, and remained sitting there in silence for a few minutes before Violet spoke up.

“Does that mean I’m not strong minded?”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “It’s just dark magic. Don’t think too much of it.”

“But you - you managed to fight it. I snapped in and out of so fast - faster than  _ Neville, _ mind you - and I-”

“Violet,” he said firmly. “Don’t.”

“Why bring me here?”

“Because I knew you were gonna beat yourself up over it. And people talk, don’t they, Mad Merryworth?” He was trying to be funny, and neither of them were sure if it was actually working. “You can’t be good at everything, Violet. Maybe resisting dark magic is harder for you than the rest of us - but who cares? We’re still at school.”

She nodded, even if she was only half convinced. “I guess.”

“Skip Divination,” he said suddenly. “You’ve had a lot on your plate recently. Just go sleep or something.” Harry shrugged nonchalantly, and Violet inherently would have gone against his suggestion, but skipping Divination seemed like the best option right now. Her brain did feel like a right mess, particularly after today.

“Alright. I’ll go rest up.”

“Shall I get Hermione to get you for dinner if you’re not gonna come for lunch?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Harry. You’re a really good friend, you know that, right?”

He shrugged again and waved it off. The pair of them stood up and Harry walked Violet back to Gryffindor Tower saying he’d make up some excuse for her, which she very much appreciated.

As she hurried on up to her dormitory, she thought about how this was going to be the first and only time she did something like this. She needed to get her head on straight so that this wasn’t a regular thing, but what happened in class earlier on had shaken her more than she realised. Violet knew she needed to write back to her parents as soon as possible, but right now her brain was swimming.

Harry had tried his best to reassure her, but try as he might she was still worried. What if somewhere down the line someone did try to use the Imperius Curse on her for reasons worse than academia? What if the absolute worst happened and the Death Eaters became more powerful? What if - god forbid it -  _ Dexter _ tried it on her, because rumours flew fast around Hogwarts? And this was something that was going to fall right into his lap.

She was a good witch - she  _ knew _ it - she worked hard, she excelled in class, and yet she couldn’t do something as simple as resist the Imperius Curse. Her mind hadn’t even been given a chance to try, it seemed, in comparison to everyone else. Even whilst under the curse, Violet had been unable to fight it, and that very thought made her sick to her stomach. Was there a reason for her being more susceptible to dark magic? Or had she been so lucky enough to be so incredibly cared for throughout her life that she had no need for resistance to such things?

Those were the thoughts that addled Violet’s mind as she kicked off her shoes and eventually drifted off to sleep. Time passed in the blink of an eye as she was awoken by Hermione after what felt like only moments, but she did feel somewhat refreshed. Her head felt a little clearer, and she didn’t dwell on what had happened during dinner. Any whispers she heard, she ignored.

By the next day, all had appeared to be forgotten as it was the day the Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs were to arrive. Even Snape couldn’t scare anyone into forgetting what was happening that evening; spirits were far too high. He wasn’t pleased by the fact it was  _ his _ lesson that had to end early so all students could be seated in the Great Hall by six o’clock, which is when the foreign students would actually arrive.

The Great Hall was reverberating with excited chatter, some of it about the new arrivals, some of it about the extra table laid out in front of the staff table with what were assumed to be Ministry officials at it, until Dumbledore rose to speak at the podium. A large, glittering container stood behind him.

“Now that you’re all here… I’d like to extend my thanks to all the professors for allowing lessons to end early today,” the headmaster said. “And of course, to thank you all in giving the students what I’m sure will be a very warm welcome. So first, I’d be delighted to announce the arrival of the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons and their headmistress, Madame Maxime.”

All heads turned towards the doors as several seventeen year old girls practically sauntered in in bright blue, silken uniforms. Every male student was in awe of the ladies as they walked on up towards the front of the hall.

Even Violet’s jaw dropped when they sped up, doing petite little prances that really drew her attention to their legs. She could feel her face growing warm, and that was when she spotted her. Oh god,  _ her. _ The girl with the long, silvery blonde hair that merely strutted behind the rest of the group and then  _ twirled _ as the giantess of a headmistress approached Dumbledore.

Violet turned to the boys.

“Veela. She’s  _ part-Veela! _ ”

“Who?” Ron asked, not even bothering to take his eyes off the girls.

“Oh, Ronald, you know  _ exactly  _ which one.”

She was painfully aware of the fact that Harry and Hermione were now casting her odd looks - she could feel their eyes burning into the side of her head - but the former didn’t say anything as he enthusiastically applauded the Beauxbatons along with the rest of the school. Some of the Hogwarts girls weren’t so necessarily inclined to do so.

“And now please welcome the proud sons of Durmstrang and their high master, Igor Karkaroff!” Dumbledore announced once that applause had died down.

The Durmstrangs had a more intense entrance to the point it shocked the students to silence, but they all gave a thunderous applause when two of the boys did some sort of fire breathing. What was interesting, however, was that it turned out world famous Quidditch Seeker Viktor Krum was also a student of the school.

Ron was somehow even more enthralled by that than the Beauxbatons.

When the new students had taken their seats, Dumbledore revealed how the champions of each school were to be chosen. He pointed a finger at the container behind him and it practically melted away to reveal a large stone goblet with bright blue flames illuminating out of the top.

“The Goblet of Fire,” he said. “Should you wish to enter, merely write your name on a piece of parchment and place it in. You have twenty four hours to enter. You will do well to remember the rules in regards to who enters… As you can see, we do have the Ministry here overseeing the Tournament, with Barty Crouch Sr and Ludo Bagman taking lead on judging each task.”

He gestured over to the table at a rather thin, stern looking old man dressed in grey, and a much younger, jollier man sitting next to him.

“Now… I believe all there is left to do is eat!” Dumbledore said, beaming. At those words, the food appeared on the table like it always did, only it contained dishes that were native to the countries the other schools came from.

Every now and then, Violet would glance over to the Ravenclaw table where the Beauxbatons girls were, much more distracted by them than any of the boys were. So much so, she was mostly picking at her dinner rather than actually eating it.

“You alright?”

Violet jumped at the voice to her right. Ginny. She was following her eye line with a raised eyebrow and genuine curiosity.

“They’re something else, aren’t they?” Violet replied instead, shovelling a forkful of potato into her mouth, finally.

“I guess… you keep looking at them.”

Violet chewed on her food longer than necessary. Ginny waited very patiently until she was able to talk again.

“And?”

“Why?”

“The Veela girl…”

“How do you know she’s Veela?” Ginny asked with a frown.

“Remember at the World Cup? There were  _ actual _ Veela there? She’s only part, I’d say. It’s just…  _ obvious. _ As if the boys weren’t already drooling over the girls anyway,  _ she  _ has to come along.”

“The boys?”

“Fine. Me as well. Let’s not get into that now, I’d say that’s a question for another day…”

Dinner carried on as normally as it could after that. Judging by where the new arrivals were sitting, the Beauxbatons were to be sleeping in the Ravenclaw Tower, and the Durmstrangs were to be in the dungeons with the Slytherins. Somehow it seemed fitting.

By the time everyone was one their way back to their respective dormitories, rumours came out in full force about who was going to be entering the Tournament for sure.

“You know Ernie McMillan said Cedric Diggory is going to enter the tournament?” Violet piped up. “He’s old enough.”

“He might be old enough but I didn’t think he’d want to ruin his pretty face,” Harry laughed.

“Surely that’d make him too good looking for Quidditch?” Violet retorted.

Harry shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows what goes through his head?”

“Here - how did  _ you _ know about Cedric?” Ron barked at Violet.

“Ernie mentioned it in Herbology yesterday,” she replied with a shrug. “He and Hannah Abbott were looking a little bit shifty so I decided to eavesdrop.”

“Good to see you’re not entirely abandoning your old ways,” Harry said, and she frowned.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’ve become a lot more… well, you’re not as quiet as you used to be,” he said carefully. “Definitely have the means to completely revert back to that though...”

“You’d miss me talking, let’s be honest. You’d miss the fact I’d tease you about calling Cedric a ‘pretty boy.’”

Harry rolled his eyes as they turned onto the next stairwell, which was when Fred and George popped up.

“You two could so play as a bickering, old married couple, you know that right?” George said, putting an arm around Violet, who cringed.

Meanwhile, Fred had his arm around Harry. “She’d keep you in line, Harry - who wants to bet Violet  _ can _ be strict and scary?”

“Oh - stop it, the pair of you!” Violet said, colour flushing her cheeks as she desperately tried to shrug out from George. He would not relent, unfortunately for her. So she resigned herself to some light teasing from the older boys, aware of the fact that Harry was as equally embarrassed as her. She tried not to look at him.

When they were finally back in the Gryffindor Tower, Violet was able to run away to the safety of her dorm. She hoped for a dreamless sleep that night, but instead had vague images of long, silver hair, and bright green eyes flashing through her mind instead.

She remembered none of those things when waking up.


	29. The Names Come Out

Saturday was rainy.

Thank goodness that it was the weekend, really.

The atmosphere around Hogwarts was a sweet concoction of excitement and fear. None of it helped by the fact that whispers circulated around the four - or really, eight, as the Great Hall had been reorganised to have the Goblet of Fire at the most central point - tables during breakfast that morning of who was going to enter, who was going to  _ try  _ and sneak past the age line.

Violet - as ever - both paid attention and paid no heed to what was going on. She listened in the sense that that was what she did: take in the information and use it wisely. She did not, however, continue to add to the rumour mill. Only Cedric Diggory had been of interest to her the previous night, but that was because she knew it would annoy Harry and Ron the most.

Either way, she ended up in the library for most of the morning. A part of her wanted to go back down to the Great Hall and see who was going to put their name in the cup before the cut off time, but the more rational part of her knew there was hardly any point in doing so, unless something of interest was going to happen.

The silence of the library and the solitude was something that Violet hadn’t realised she needed his early on in the school years. The hectic nature to the start of fourth year had left her brain frazzled. The instant amount of calm she felt when being able to set down her things and get to work without having to help anyone else or be disturbed or distracted was welcome. As the hours ticked by, she could feel the tension easing in her shoulders as she became less hunched over her work, and each breath she took felt lighter than the last.

It must have been about one thirty when she was finally interrupted. Three and a half hours of peace, that was all she had. The people who had interrupted her were the last people she expected to come looking for her.

“So Violet,” Fred said, pulling up a chair.

“Heard you’re pretty good at Potions,” George said as he pulled up the other next to her.

She sighed and put down her quill. “What have you done?”

“Made an Ageing Potion, little flower, and we’d like your opinion on if you think it’s gonna work.”

“Firstly,  _ please  _ don’t call me that again, and secondly - you two are sixth years. Why do you want to know what I think?”

“Like he said, Vi, you’re good at Potions,” Fred reiterated. “Do you think it’ll work?”

She took a moment to process what he was getting at. “You’re going to use it to put your name in the Goblet of Fire, aren’t you?”

“Well, obviously. We cooked it up this morning - probably could have used your help - but what are your thoughts?”

“Not to go through with it? You know there’s measures in place, right?” Violet raised her eyebrows as she glanced between the twins. They didn’t say anything, gesturing for her to carry on talking. “How much did you make?”

“A fair amount,” George said, and they both pulled out equal sized vials that had a dark green liquid in them.

“You’ll only need a drop or two for it to work effectively - otherwise you’ll age yourself too much. Remember that,” Violet mused. “I still wouldn’t recommend it. You’re better off asking someone else to put your names in for you.”

“Ye of little faith, dear flower…” Fred sighed dramatically. “It’s gonna work.”

“But it might not. Have you considered that?”

“It’s a foolproof plan, Vi, it’s gonna work.”

“You really came here to brag about it, didn’t you?”

“Ah, do you really think so little of us?” George pouted jokingly.

“What? No, I-”

“We should be off, we’ve got a Tournament to enter…” Fred winked at her and they got up, hurrying off out of the library pretty quickly. Violet was left absolutely stumped.

For a few moments, she remained stock still, her mind racing at one hundred miles an hour about what might happen if Fred and George really did try using the Ageing Potion to enter the Tournament. So she scrambled to pack up all her belongings, grab her cloak and start running after them.

They were a few staircases ahead of her, but that didn’t stop her from still bolting after them, calling after them and telling them it was silly to follow through with the potion.

Instead, on getting to the Great Hall, she ran in on them being applauded by everyone.

“You two - don’t! It’s not going to work!” Violet shouted at them from across the room. That was when she noticed Harry and Ron egging on the twins, and her shoulders slumped. “Of course you two would find this entertaining-”

At that point, Fred and George had already necked each of their vials and jumped past the Age Line that was around the Goblet. Nothing happened, and Violet tilted her head to the side curiously as she wandered closer. They put their names in. Still, nothing happened, and she was about to join in with the clapping when suddenly the blue flame turned bright red for a moment and cast the twins out.

While they were being cheered on to start a fight as they both grew grey beards and hair, Violet rolled her eyes and went to join Hermione, who was ignoring everyone as she sat on the bench, reading.

“I tried to stop them…” Violet murmured to her friend.

“I think that was in vain,” Hermione replied.

They both chuckled, just as all the noise died down and someone else entered the Great Hall.

Viktor Krum, flanked one of his friends and Karkaroff. The confidence he oozed as he went straight up to the Goblet and put his name in was cool and casual; what added to that was the way he glanced right at Hermione just before he made an exit. Even Violet managed to pick up on that, and gave her a little impressed nudge. Hermione waved off the whole thing.

The excitement seemed to die down after that, and Harry and Ron came to join them on the benches.

“Where were you all morning?” he asked Violet.

“In the library. Needed some quiet. What else did I miss?”

“Cedric put his name in, so did Angelina!”

“Oh! I didn’t realise she was going for it.”

“Me neither… dunno what Cedric was doing outside in that weather but he came back in absolutely drenched - his friends near enough pushed him in… d’you reckon he’d be good? If his name came out?”

Entirely bemused by the fact Harry was going on about Cedric so much, Violet almost didn’t answer. “Well… I think Angelina would be a damn sight better, don’t you?”

“I guess, but he’s also pretty skilled,” Harry shrugged.

“Something’s making me think that  _ you _ want Cedric to be the Hogwarts champion.”

“I mean, he’s cool. Beat me at Quidditch, didn’t he?”

“Unfairly though - and he knew it!”

“Which makes him even better!” There was a contemplative look on Harry’s face that had Violet suspicious, but she didn’t push it any further. Even he seemed to realise his own overzealous nature in regards to how he spoke about the Hufflepuff boy, so awkwardly cleared his throat, blushing a little.

The day passed by sluggishly after that, everyone anticipating the announcement of the champions. Even Violet stayed in the Great Hall and carried on with some of her schoolwork, occasionally casting a curious eye on those who still came in to submit their names. At one point, she got Harry to check over her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework (where he offered up a few extra ideas to her, which she happily added) - at least that provided some normalcy to the subject that was now apparently run by a completely out of his mind, paranoid ex-Auror.

Dinner was early that day, so that by the time six o’clock rolled around everyone began to settle down for the announcement.

“Sit down, please,” Dumbledore’s voice was a forceful yet quiet command over the students of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs. Everyone fell silent. “Now the moment you’ve all been waiting for - the champions selection!”

He approached the Goblet in the centre of the Great Hall, where the blue flame turned bright red and spat out a lightly singed piece of parchment. Dumbledore caught it and turned it over in his hand to find the name.

“The Durmstrang champion - Viktor Krum!”

A roar went up over where the Durmstrangs were sitting, and among those who closely followed Krum’s career as Seeker. Ron was especially delighted, and applauded vigorously. Everyone watched as Krum went to shake Dumbledore’s hand before he was directed off towards a door behind the staff table; every Hogwarts student there knew it led down to the Trophy Room.

The flames turned red once more and out came another piece of parchment - this one looked far more delicate than the scrap Krum’s name had been on.

“The champion from Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!”

Up got the girl that Violet knew to be a Veela. Her jaw dropped once more as she clapped with the others in a more dumbfounded manner than usual. She really had to focus on keeping her mouth closed every time she saw that girl walk.

The Goblet then spat out its final name.

“And finally, the Hogwarts champion… Cedric Diggory!”

Violet noticed the smile on Harry’s face as they all watched Cedric go up to Dumbledore and told to follow where the others had gone. He was clearly very proud, pleased, and clearly had more control over his jaw than Violet did. 

“Excellent!” Dumbledore addressed the students. “We now have our three champions! But in the end only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions; this vessel of victory; the Triwizard Cup!”

Barty had brought in something covered up with a cloth, and as Dumbledore pointed a finger at it the cloth came flying off to reveal a glowing cup, with tinted blue glass for the hexagonal panels set against silver; it truly looked glorious.

While everyone’s attention was on the beautiful Triwizard Cup, Violet’s was elsewhere.

The blue flame of the Goblet was shimmering, and it turned red again; an angry red, as if it were about to explode out of control. Soon enough everyone else took note and the flames erupted higher than before to spit out a  _ fourth _ piece of paper, which Dumbledore caught, his brow knotted.

“Harry Potter…” It may have been a mumble, but it rang out across the hall like he’d shouted it.

Violet turned to her friend whose eyes had gone wide with fear or embarrassment - both? He was definitely nervous and confused, that was for sure. He looked at her as if to ask what to do, but also she could do was give him a pitying look and shrug.

“HARRY POTTER!” Dumbledore shouted.

“Go…” Violet urged him.

He shook his head. “I - I don’t - I didn’t -”

“I know, but just go…” She regretfully pushed him off the bench and he started to slowly make his way to the Headmaster, the whole school watching him in silence.

Eventually he disappeared to the Trophy Room, and that was when everyone started to mutter their conspiracy theories.

Violet turned to Hermione who was just as equally unsure of what had just happened as she was. Before they could even say a word to one another, Dumbledore commanded that they all head off back to their dormitories. Violet ignored that command and instead decided to fight against the crowd and follow the teachers to the Trophy Room.

McGonagall, annoyingly, caught her.

“Miss Merryworth, go to your dormitory,” she told her, but visibly shaken and worried. The usual command that would have been in her voice wasn’t quite there.

“Professor,  _ please _ , I know you’re thinking what I am.” Violet stared up at her teacher with big doe eyes; pleading,  _ begging _ to be let into the Trophy Room. There was a moment where McGonagall looked like she was going to consider it, but changed her mind at the last moment.

“Wait here,” she eventually said, finally running after the rest of the faculty.

Violet sighed, and glanced back over her shoulder where the rest of the students were still filtering out of the Great Hall. She sank down on a bench, her foot tapping repeatedly on the ground anxiously while she waited for someone -  _ anyone _ \- to come back out and either let her in or send Harry off with her.

How could this have happened? She knew that Harry was the last person to want to even enter the Tournament - not with the life he’d had! Something was wrong - very wrong - and even if she couldn’t figure it out yet, she was going to. Maybe. If she couldn’t, she’d just be there by Harry’s side every step of the way no matter what.

About ten minutes later, Krum, Fleur, and Cedric all came out.

“You alright, Merryworth?” Cedric asked, planting himself next to Violet.

She nodded. “Y-Yeah. I guess. Waiting for Harry.”

“Course. I didn’t realise you were really good friends with him,” he commented. “You… you don’t think he put his name in somehow, do you?”

“Absolutely not. I know him… he wouldn’t want to. What about you?”

“I think  _ maybe _ he could have cheated,” Cedric admitted. Before he could go any further, the door opened yet again and Harry stepped out. The pair of them stood up and Violet ran over to him and threw her arms around her friend. He didn’t return the gesture. Respectfully, she let go of Harry on realising that he wasn’t going to.

“We should go,” Violet said, casting a dirty look at Cedric, taking Harry by the hand and beginning to lead him out of the hall. Quick footsteps caught up to them, and she grit her teeth. She didn’t want to let slip to Harry that Cedric thought he’d cheated his way into this.

“Let me walk with you guys back to Gryffindor Tower, at least. Just in case Filch is about,” Cedric offered, fully much aware that Violet was less than impressed with him right now.

“No, thank you,” Violet replied stiffly. “We’ll be fine.”

Knowing that he’d made a mistake; knowing that Violet’s loyalty ran deeper than he could have possibly imagined, Cedric dropped a few steps behind them as they got to the Grand Staircase.

“Well… okay. Good night Harry… Merryworth…”

Neither of the pair responded. Harry threw a quick wave over his shoulder back at the seventeen year old, though.

They were silent, most of the way back up to Gryffindor Tower. They didn’t know what to say to each other, but Violet didn’t dare let go of Harry.

“You didn’t need to wait for me,” he mumbled as they reached the Fat Lady’s portrait. “Go in without me.”

“What? Why?”

“They’re all gonna think… Look, you probably think I did something to put my name in that cup but I  _ didn’t _ , okay?”

That was enough for her to let go of him, for how taken aback she was by his assumption. “Harry, that’s not what-”

“Just - please go in without me. I’ll wait here for a few minutes,” Harry told her, exasperated.

Violet bit her lip in an effort to stop herself from arguing with him, and nodded, uttering the password and heading inside to the watchful eyes of Gryffindor house.

When they saw she was alone, they went back to their own business.


	30. Oh, To Be Hidden

Harry wasn’t at breakfast the next morning. Violet queried Hermione if she knew where the boy was, but she had absolutely no idea. Mulling it over some pumpkin juice and cereal, Violet left the breakfast table quite abruptly and headed up to the seventh floor. Relief flooded through her when Harry was exactly where she suspected.

“I thought I might find you here…”

Violet had poked her head into the room that she and Harry had found the previous year, only there were a couple more additions. There was a training dummy in the centre of the room that Harry was currently practising hexes on. He wasn’t at all shocked by her intrusion, but still said nothing. She sighed and walked in, opting to settle down over on one of the large bean bags and merely watch her friend vent his frustration.

As she watched him, Violet couldn’t help but realise that he’d need a whole arsenal of spells to help him in this tournament, as all the other contestants were seventh years who knew magic far more advanced than he did.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Harry muttered after he cast the Furnunculus Curse.

Now that took her aback. “Like what?”

“Like you’re pitying me.”

“I’m not. I was just thinking…”

“Thinking what?” He was tetchy as he turned to face her, still gripping his wand rather tightly. Violet held up her hands in surrender as she pointedly looked at the wand. Harry realised a couple of moments later why she was doing that, and pocketed it. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

Violet lowered her hands. “Thinking about all the extra work you’re going to have to put into this Tournament.”

He sighed and sank down to the floor. “Yeah. They’re years ahead of me.”

“And that’s not your fault,” she told him, heading over to sit down on the floor next to her friend. “I know you didn’t put your name in there, Harry.”

“Really?”

“Of course! You’re the last person who’d want to participate in that tournament. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is,” she reassured him.

“Ron doesn’t believe me…” Harry murmured.

She frowned. “What?”

“I know,” he sighed, leaning his head back against the wall and shutting his eyes in despair.

Violet’s mind was racing. What could she possibly say? What could she possibly  _ do _ , for that matter? The most dangerous game lay right out in front of Harry, everyone expecting him to abide by the rules and go through with it. She stared at her friend: a boy desperately trying to find a moment of peace somewhere, judging by the way he was resting against the wall and breathing shallowly. It tugged on her heart strings enough that before she could think it through logically she’d reached out and grabbed one of his hands in both of hers.

Harry’s chin dropped down as his eyes snapped open at that moment of contact. She avoided holding his gaze and instead looked at his elbow, where he’d rolled up the sleeves of his fleece; it seemed a safer bet to look there. There was a fear in the back of her mind about what might happen if she looked him directly in the eye in that moment; fear that the spark might jump between them again, at a time that wasn’t entirely appropriate.

“Look,” she murmured. “It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. I know you’re telling the truth - why would you lie about something like this when it’s not even possible for you to do it in the first place?” There was an almost pleading tone in her voice. “I’ve got your back. I promise you that much.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do! Don’t - don’t ever doubt that for a second.” Finally, Violet looked him in the eye, offering him a tiny smile. “No matter what happens, okay? What are friends for?” She added, echoing a statement he made to her the previous year, which made him perk up.

Violet let go of his hand. “Now,” she carried on, “are you going to hole up in here all day or do you want to… I don’t know, head somewhere else?”

“Shall we find Hermione and go for a walk?” he said after a few moments. Violet nodded, and they both got to their feet.

They made their way back to the Gryffindor Tower quietly and quickly, relieved that nobody else had noticed their exit from the strange room. By the time they reached the portrait, Hermione was just about to head inside too. She had something wrapped up in a napkin, and smiled at the pair of them when they approached.

“Oh! You found him - where was he hiding?” she addressed Violet with the question.

Violet and Harry glanced at each other dubiously. Taking too long to answer, Hermione brushed it off and unfolded the napkin, presenting it to Harry: it was filled with toast.

“I thought I might bring this to you since you missed breakfast. Did you want to go on a walk?”

“Actually, we came looking for you to do just that,” Harry replied, taking the toast out of Hermione’s hands and beginning to munch on it gratefully. “Let’s go.”

“Did you ever hear back from Sirius?” Violet asked abruptly when they started to head downstairs to get out of the castle.

“I did, actually,” Harry replied through a mouthful of toast. “Annoyingly - he’s making his way up north to us. I wish I hadn’t told him about my scar hurting - what if he gets caught?!”

“Well, you needed to - and he’ll be able to take care of himself, I’m sure. If not, I’m sure I can get my parents or Remus-”

“No.” Harry’s tone was firm. “Don’t get anyone else involved. Hermione, you see Ron this morning at all?”

“He was at breakfast…” Hermione replied uneasily. For once, Violet had been too preoccupied to take notice of Ron’s presence or not - and now she didn’t particularly care for it. “You know he’s just jealous, right?”

Harry almost laughed. “I’m sorry - why would  _ he _ be jealous?”

“You’re his best friend! And he’s always shunted to the side for you. He has brothers to compete with, and won’t want to compete with you too! You’ve always got the spotlight on you, Harry…”

“Not that I want it,” he mumbled, glancing at Violet; someone who could sink back into the shadows whenever she desired and never be bothered again. Sometimes he could use that, and the room was his only means of doing so. He could never pull it off like she could. He couldn’t slip into the background so easily. “But if he’s so jealous, he’s welcome to swap places, he can take the scar-”

“Harry, that’s not what Hermione meant and you know it,” Violet piped up. “He’ll come around.”

“Probably when I’ve broken my neck or something-”

“ _ Harry! _ ” Both girls were affronted by that statement as they made their way through to the Clocktower Courtyard.

“As much as I hate to say it, he might have a point,” Violet replied quietly after getting over the initial shock of his bold statement. “Ron’s stubborn enough that he probably won’t come to his senses until Harry’s in some serious trouble.”

“Then he’s not only stubborn, but foolish too,” Hermione remarked.

“Yeah, you got that right…” Harry mumbled in agreement.

For a moment the conversation died down and they walked in silence out across the grounds and towards the Black Lake. There was an air of awkwardness surrounding the three teens as they settled down on one of the larger boulders - something about it just being the three of them without Ron didn’t feel quite right. If it had been any other situation whereby he was unavailable, it would have been fine. Knowing that Ron had fallen out with his best friend, however, made his absence more difficult to swallow.

“Was there any mention of when the first task will be?” Violet asked after a few minutes of them just staring out over the lake.

“Towards the end of November,” Harry replied. “We’ll get more exact details soon, I expect…”

“You’re really going to have to brush up on everything you know plus some extra,” Hermione pointed out. Harry glanced at her, as if to say ‘ _ like I don’t already know that?’ _

“Violet mentioned it earlier,” he said a little stiffly. That tone of voice alone made Hermione gulp a little nervously. “So I know. I know what I need to do.”

“We’ll  _ both _ help you,” she carried on. “You’re not going to be on your own through all of this, okay?”

“So you know I didn’t put my name in the Goblet of Fire?”

“Of course I know that! Someone else must have done it - and they didn’t have very good intentions, Harry.”

“She’s right - whoever did this wants to see you get hurt,” Violet added. “So we’ll help you however we can, because the rest have three years more experience over you. But… Hermione and I both know you’re a powerful wizard. Personally, I don’t think Cedric was able to produce a fully corporeal Patronus at the age of thirteen. You’ve been in genuinely dangerous situations, which while unfortunate, means the tasks are probably going to be nothing to you.”

He contemplated her words for a moment. “Somehow, that did actually make me feel a bit better. Even if it did start off poorly…” He smirked at Violet and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Write to Sirius about this as well, before it goes completely public and he finds out elsewhere,” she then said.

Harry nodded, but didn’t say anything, knowing that she was right, of course. He was definitely grateful for the fact he had become close with Violet over the past few months alone, because it made school less of a nightmare to deal with from that point onwards. Hermione kept bouncing back and forth between them and Ron, which Harry understood, but he was glad for Violet’s permanent presence. It also probably helped him that her crude nickname was still circulating around the school, so a few people would keep their distance and any whispers and dirty looks were thrown from so far that he barely noticed them.

The Gryffindors were very open in their support, but didn’t believe Harry when he said he hadn’t put his name in the Goblet. Eventually he stopped trying to convince them otherwise, but it didn’t mean he enjoyed whatever attention they gave him.

He and Violet ended up retreating to that room more and more often. She’d teach him new spells that might be useful, or they’d practice any they’d been given for homework in a place where they wouldn’t get caught by teachers. It was a small, safe space away from prying eyes and hateful whispers, where they could both just be themselves and left alone from the outside world for a short while.

Try as they might to keep their heads down, avoid Ron, and get on with it, things came to a head one day when the pair of them were down by the lake with Neville. The latter was standing about a good foot deep in the water, trying to find various plants and identifying them and their properties. Meanwhile, Violet had climbed up a tree while Harry sat underneath the branch she was on.

For all that had been going on, it had been a pretty relaxed afternoon, just the three of them that Saturday. Although Neville did keep talking to himself. Violet managed to tune it out, but Harry wasn’t entirely able to.

“Amazing… amazing!”

“Neville?” Harry called out to him. “You’re doing it again.”

“Oh! Right, sorry…” he said as he turned around.

At this point, Harry picked up a book that was with Neville’s belongings. “ _ Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties _ ?” he read out the title.

“I’ve heard of that - not had a chance to read it,” Violet said. “Is it any good, Neville?”

“Yeah it’s alright! Moody gave it to me - that day we had tea.” He was clearly pleased with himself that he’d been given a wonderful by their teacher. He then waved off into the distance, causing Harry and Violet to follow his eye line to see Ron, Hermione, and Ginny walking towards them.

Ron and Hermione appeared to be having some form of hushed argument, so Harry stood up to speak to them, which was when his female approached him cautiously.

“Ronald… would like me to tell you… that Seamus told him… that Dean was told by Parvati that…” she seemed so unsure of what she was saying, that VIolet eventually came back down the tree to the ground, curious about what was going on. “Hagrid’s looking for you.”

“You can-” Harry was about to retort, but stopped short. “What?”

“Um…” Hermione headed back over to Ron.

Violet, on the other hand, had come up to Harry and was deconstructing the message. “Honestly, I think she’s trying to tell you to go to Hagrid.”

“Really?” Harry whispered back to her.

“Yeah, I mean… I don’t think it matters who told who, so just take it as Hagrid is looking for you, so go talk to him.”

“You sure?”

“Of course!”

By that point, Hermione was coming back to them, which was when Harry spoke up.

“Actually - it’s fine. I think I get it. Don’t worry,” he told her.

“Erm… alright…” she replied uneasily, turning on her heel and beckoning the Weasleys to leave with her.

Harry sighed in relief as he turned to Violet.

“I think that just stopped an awkward conversation. I’ll sort out when it’s okay to see Hagrid.”


	31. Potter Stinks and Mad Merryworth

“Are you sure Hagrid won’t mind if I come along?” Violet asked nervously as they made their way through the Stone Circle. The evening autumn light was fading behind the castle while they made their way down Hagrid’s, Invisibility Cloak in hand.

“Course he won’t,” Harry insisted. “Besides, it’s not like I could have brought Ron along… and Hermione won’t… sorry - I just made it sound like you were my last option. You’re not, by the way. This is just-”

“Something you and Ron would normally do together,” Violet finished off for him, quickly. “Nice save, Potter.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh, so we’re doing surnames now?”

“Well…  _ no _ , it just seemed to fit the bill at this moment.”

Harry chuckled, going to push Violet playfully. “Alright then,  _ Merryworth, _ have it your way.”

Violet rolled her eyes and promptly looked away from Harry, trying to ignore the fact that she had begun to blush madly at the way he spoke her surname in that instance.

“What do you suppose Hagrid wants to talk to you about? Did he give you any ideas?” Violet then asked to break through the silence that had befallen them.

Harry shook his head. “Nope. Suppose we’ll find out in a few minutes.”

By the time they reached Hagrid’s, the giant himself was waiting outside his front door with a lamp.

“Harry! Violet! Good to see yeh both,” he beamed down at them. “Now what yeh see tonight - yeh can’ say a  _ word _ ter anyone, got that?”

The pair looked at each other nervously before nodding in agreement.

“Good! Good… now follow me.”

With that, he started to lead them into the forest; not drastically deep, but deep enough to make the teens wonder what on earth he could possibly be going to show them.

“You brought yer father’s cloak like I asked you?” Hagrid asked once they were far enough away from the edge of the forest. Harry held it up and showed it to him. “Good. It’ll cover you both, righ’?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied.

At that point, an almighty roar echoed through the forest, stopping the three of them in their tracks.

“What was that?” Violet asked, gulping.

Before Hagrid could even answer, someone else was calling out for him - a French voice. He ushered the pair of them to get under the Invisibility Cloak, and he carried on walking. The pair remained a good paces behind them, and were pleasantly surprised to see Madame Maxime. What they weren’t pleased to see was the excessive flirting between her and Hagrid.

“I didn’t think this evening could get anymore… odd?” Violet offered to Harry politely. As he was holding onto the Cloak above them, she’d taken to keeping grip on his upper arm so as to actually keep up the same pace as him. Plus it made the whole ordeal of them being under the Cloak together less irritating.

“Gross. The evening just got gross,” he opted to correct her.

“I guess…” she sighed in agreement, but they both smirked at each other.

Soon enough they came to a clearing that had four, large shaky containers, and several people struggling to handle them. The walls of each container fell away to reveal cages that had a dragon in each one. None of those dragons were happy at all.

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” Violet breathed.

“No way…” Harry was in total disbelief.

As Madame Maxime stepped away from Hagrid to try and get closer, Harry yanked the Cloak off and headed back over to Hagrid, Violet hot on his heels.

“Dragon?! That’s the First Task!”

“One for each of yeh. But remember Harry - vastly misunderstood creat-”

He was cut off mid sentence as one of the dragons breathed fire right in their direction, missing them by a couple of metres as it hit a bush in front of them.

“Although… that Hungarian Horntail can be a nasty piece of work. Poor Ron nearly fain’ed when he saw ‘em.”

“Wait - Ron was here?” Violet asked with a frown.

“Of course! His brother Charlie brought the dragons over from Romania. Didn’t tell you that?”

“No,” Harry said. “Ron didn’t tell us a  _ thing. _ ”

Hagrid looked down at the two of them rather dubiously before going to catch up with Madame Maxime.

Clearly annoyed, Harry started to head back the way they had come, not even bothering to put the Cloak back on. Violet hurried after him.

“Harry - I know you’re probably angry-”

“No need to point out the obvious!” he snapped at her. Taken aback, Violet came to a stop. Harry kept on walking, teeth gritted and determined to get out of the forest as quickly as he could. When he realised Violet wasn’t right behind him, he slowed down and turned to her.

She was chewing on the inside of her cheek, her eyebrows curved upwards in what he could just about make out to be worry or upset. Sighing, he made his way back over to her.

“Sorry…” he mumbled, which was when she started to walk with him again.

“I know you’re probably angry, but of  _ course _ Ron saw the dragons if it was  _ Charlie _ that got them here!” Violet reminded him. “He only didn’t tell you because he’s mad at you, obviously. Unless… well…”

“What?” Harry tried his best not to sound tetchy, but became painfully aware of the fact that he still did, judging by the look Violet threw him.

“At the lake the other day - when Hermione passed on that message from him to see Hagrid. What if that was his way of telling you about this?” she suggested quietly. “As a way of making peace?”

“I don’t think Ron would go that far - if he wanted to make peace, he could have walked up to me the other day and said it himself.” The bitterness in his voice could not be hidden, and Violet understood why. His best friend had decided to abandon him, after all. The only thing she could do was stick by him.

So, reluctantly, Violet agreed with Harry. “I guess. It was just a thought,” she mumbled. “More importantly… how do you think you’ll tackle the dragon?”

“Honestly, right now, I think I just want to go to bed, Violet,” he admitted. “We can go over it tomorrow.”

“Right. Of course. Take it all in…”

Their walk back up to the castle passed by mostly in silence.

The next day during lunch, Harry was on a mission to seek out Cedric, and he dragged Violet along with him. She wasn’t too enthused by the idea of going along, nor with the fact that Harry wanted to help him out. It also didn’t help matters that most of Hogwarts were sporting badges that had “Support Cedric Diggory” on them, but crudely switched to “Potter Stinks” every time Harry walked past. That along with a few other Daily Prophet articles by Rita Skeeter certainly hadn’t helped his reputation around the school.

“Harry, you can’t be serious about telling him!” Violet hissed as they hurried down one of the many corridors.

“It’s not fair if he doesn’t know!” Harry told her. “Fleur knows, and I expect Krum does as well… You know, Ron knows… why not Cedric?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because the night your name came out of the Goblet he told me he thought you cheated!” Violet retorted. Harry skidded to a halt and pulled her aside.

“What?”

She winced, realising she hadn’t told him that. “I forgot to mention, I’m sorry…”

He sighed, adjusting the strap of his satchel, ignoring a goading  _ “you stink, Potter!” _ from someone passing by. “No, it’s fine - I mean, he’s not exactly the only one, is he?” When Violet didn’t respond, he carried on talking. “I’m not leaving him in the dark. Come on.”

Harry beckoned for her to follow and they turned a corner to the Transfiguration Courtyard, where they spotted Cedric surrounded by a gaggle of his friends. As they were about to enter the grassy courtyard, their way was blocked by Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbott.

“Like the badges, Potter?” Ernie asked.

“Excuse me,” Harry said tersely, wanting to get through. Neither of them budged.

“Could we please get past?” Violet then asked. “Harry has somewhere to be.”

“Mad Merryworth speaks for you now?” Hannah had mock confusion written all over her face.

“Don’t push it.” Violet was about to square up to Hannah when the Hufflepuff flinched in fear, as did Ernie.

“Careful, Hannah, you don’t know what hex she might chuck our way,” Ernie said, and the pair of them moved out of the way.

“Well… that certainly came in handy,” Harry tried his best to joke, but Violet wasn’t having it. As they approached Cedric - lounging on a bench with his friends fawning over him - the older boy sat up pretty straight. The Hufflepuffs made fun of Harry but equally gave Violet a wide berth.

“Can I talk to you?” Harry asked him.

“Er… sure.” Cedric stood up and allowed the fourth years to lead him away.

Certain he wasn’t going to be overheard, Harry cut straight to the point. “Dragons. That’s the first task.”

“Are - are you serious?” Cedric was just as in shock as they’d been about it.

“Yep. They’ve got once for each of us.”

“Fleur and Krum… do er… do they know as well?” His gaze shifted to Violet for a moment, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Yeah, they know too,” Harry confirmed.

“Right… right… guessing you told Merryworth then?”

“Actually, I saw the dragons. We both did,” Violet said.

“And  _ Merryworth _ rightly told me what you said to her. About me cheating,” Harry then said. “Take it from her - Violet - who knows me well enough to know that I didn’t. Why would I wanna put my name in the Goblet, Cedric?”

As if it finally clicked together in his brain, Cedric nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I suppose you wouldn’t, would you?” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, then held out his hand to Harry. “Sorry about that.”

Not entirely expecting the gesture, Harry cautiously shook Cedric’s hand. For some reason after letting go, Violet noted that Harry appeared to be quite flustered.

“Listen - about the badges - I’ve told them not to wear them,” Cedric then said.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“No, seriously, it’s not the nicest thing… and um…  _ Violet _ . I don’t think your nickname was ever appropriate.”

She was too stunned to even say anything in response, and merely nodded.

“See you around, guys…” Cedric went back over to his friends.

As Violet and Harry were about to make their own exit from the courtyard, the latter caught sight of someone and started heading right towards them. When Violet realised he was about to have a go at Ron, she frantically tried to get him to change his mind.

“It’s not worth it - Harry - come on -  _ Harry _ !”

He kept batting her away.

“You’re a right foul git, you know that right?” He spat Ron. he was with Seamus, who looked rather uncomfortable at the exchange.

“You think so?” Ron scowled.

“I know so!”

“Right. Anything else?”

“Yeah! Stay away from me!”

“Fine,” Ron shoved past Harry into the courtyard.

Violet sighed deeply, and rounded on her friend after that. “You feel better now?” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Really? You’re going there?”

“You’re both being incredibly immature. So yes. I  _ am _ going there.”

“Well what do you want me to do?!” He was frustrated. “Because you’re right - he’s not going to see sense about this or apologise  _ until _ I lose a limb or die!”

“Don’t sink to his level, maybe?” Violet suggested. “Me and Hermione believe you. I know that’s not enough for you because neither of us are Ron, but  _ can _ it be enough? Please?”

Harry’s shoulders sagged as he simmered down, realising there was some truth behind Violet’s words. Before he could even respond - and agree - with her, the last person he wanted to interact with had decided to jump in.

“Potter and Mad Merryworth - having a  _ lover’s quarrel? _ ” Malfoy’s voice drifted over to them, chiding. They looked over to him to see he was lounging in a tree, his cronies hovering around the base of it. “Never realised you could speak so much, Merryworth - or show an emotion, actually…”

Instinctively, Violet went to go get out her wand as she and Harry approached the tree, but the boy pushed her behind him gently. He could have sworn Malfoy looked a little frightened.

“I’m surprised  _ you _ know what an emotion is,” Harry then quipped. “Since all you know from your father is how to be cruel.”

Malfoy jumped down from the tree. “How  _ dare _ you speak about my father that way.” He sauntered over to Harry and stared him down, about a few inches gap between them. They were drawing a crowd now, and Violet kept a tight grip on her wand as she stood behind Harry.

“You know, we actually have a bet. I reckon you won’t last ten minutes in this tournament,” he told Harry in a low voice, and then stepped back shrugging. “He disagrees. He doesn’t believe you’ll last five.”

“I don’t give a damn-”

Violet had elbowed Harry out of the way and was - for the second time that year - pointing her wand at Malfoy, who just laughed while the crowd began murmuring.

“You really think I’m scared of you, Mad Merryworth?” he spat at her. “You’ve got a death wish just like your mother-”

It looked as if Violet was about to lunge and physically attack Malfoy, rather than use magic. Harry had managed to step in in time and wrap his arms around her, so that her arms were pinned to her sides and she couldn’t do anything. She was angry to an extent; not like she’d been when Dexter had gone for her, but he firmly believed that the build up of the nickname and the fact it was  _ Malfoy _ was driving her to the edge yet again.

“We’re going,” Harry told her quietly. “Come on.”

She didn’t fight him as he began to usher her towards the edge of the now dispersing crowd, making her walk backwards in the process.

“Malfoy - you’re  _ pathetic _ . Learn some new insults!” Harry yelled back over his shoulder at the boy. He managed to spin Violet around so that she was walking normally, so neither of them saw the fact that Malfoy was about to hex the pair of them.

That was when Moody burst through the crowd.

“Oh no you don’t, sonny!” he barked and suddenly in place of Malfoy was a ferret.

Harry and Violet turned round to see Moody having a brilliant time making the ferret bounce and go down Crabbe’s trousers. It certainly got a good giggle out of them and the rest of the students that were still watching. It was a shame that McGonagall had heard all the commotion from nearby and came over to transform Malfoy back into a human again, before giving Moody a good telling off about using Transfiguration as a punishment.

Once everything died down, Moody beckoned Harry away - alone.

Violet awkwardly waved goodbye to her friend, feeling somewhat deflated after all that. She’d really been about to punch or slap Malfoy. Not entirely uncharacteristic of her, but it was still a strange feeling regardless. Perhaps there really was a point for her to reach the end of her tether. She sighed and pocketed her wand, realising that whatever courage had flared up within her in that moment he was goading her, was courage that stemmed from that fact that Harry was by her side.

She fiddled with the end of her long braid as she did when nervous, trying to figure out why that was, and she wondered if perhaps Bill had been right in the summer about the fact she could have had a crush on Harry. She always felt much braver around him. Was that to do with having a crush? She couldn’t be sure. She’d never had a crush before.

For once, it was all a bit confusing to her.

“Are you alright, Miss Merryworth?” McGonagall’s voice jolted her from her thoughts. Violet for once hadn’t taken notice of the fact her teacher was still standing there.

She gave her a shaky smile and nodded. “Yes, professor.”

With that, she wandered off towards the library, thinking that a bit of downtime before Charms might do the trick.


	32. The First Task

Over the next couple of weeks, Violet spent most of her free time with Harry in their strange little room, going over spells he needed to improve or finding new ones that were at the very least within their abilities. It led to a lot of questions from Hermione at first - who was pretty busy with House Elf rights - but they managed to throw off the scent of ever finding out where they were really going. Eventually the daytime ventures turned to nightly jaunts to the room in the lead up to the first task.

The final night was much more relaxed. Violet got Harry to do a final bit of practice with the Summoning Charm, Banishing Charm, and various hexes before calling it and instead getting out a boat load of sweets and chocolates. He was nervous enough, he didn’t need extra pressure the night before the first task, thinking something more relaxed was on the books for a couple of hours. She even had some Gobstones on her too.

“You’re always so prepared,” Harry told her she then pulled out a packet of Exploding Snap cards from her bag. Violet shot him a quick smile, but shrugged.

“Never hurts to be prepared, does it?”

“I guess not,” Harry agreed, picking up a Chocolate Frog. “Thanks for doing this, by the way.”

“What are friends for?” she replied brightly. “You’ve been working hard, might as well use tonight to just relax.” Then Violet paused, surveying Harry oddly. “If we forget that this tournament exists, are you alright?”

“Err…” Harry wasn’t sure where that question had come from. “Yeah, I guess. Why?”

“You’ve seemed tense in lessons.”

“So have you,” he pointed out. “Are you alright?”

Well, that got her. Since the incident with Malfoy in the Transfiguration Courtyard, Violet had been going back and forth about whether or not she had a crush on Harry. It was something she had kept to herself and not even told Hermione, mostly because she didn’t want it to become a problem. Except if she was being tense in lessons, then it  _ was _ becoming a problem.

“Worried for you, I suppose,” she lied shakily. “Come on. We’ve never played Gobstones together before…”

The switch in subject clearly made Harry want to question her further. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again and she started rolling marbles towards him. It was hardly important.

The pair of them exit the room by about one o’clock in the morning, and hurried back to Gryffindor Tower under the Invisibility Cloak, Violet muttering about how they should have left sooner because Harry needed his rest. He wasn’t too fussed by it, though.

The next morning at breakfast, Violet and Hermione sat with Harry, looking about as anxious as he must have felt. None of that was helped by the fact McGonagall came along to lead Harry down to where the task was to take place earlier than the rest of the school were allowed to go down there.

“He’ll be fine. You’ve been helping him - there shouldn’t be a problem,” Hermione told her as Ron then joined them. Violet narrowed her eyes at him.

“So um… how are you two, this morning?” he then asked awkwardly.

Violet said nothing and continued to pick at the bacon on her plate. She didn’t take her eyes off of Ron, who she noted appeared to be nervous too.

“I don’t think that needs answering,” Hermione then said quickly. “What about you?”

“I’m not gonna lie, Hermione… I’m bloody worried for Harry,” he admitted. He leaned closer towards Violet and Hermione across the table. “I mean… it’s a  _ dragon. _ ”

“I take it you’re beginning to catch on?” Violet asked stiffly, putting down her fork and pushing her plate away.

“Violet-”

“No. You abandoned your best friend. He’s more scared than any of us right now, and you refused to believe him!” she snapped at him.

Ron then scowled at her. “Oh yeah? And you never had any doubts?”

“No - never. I waited for him that night after his name came out. I didn’t see you staying back. And quite frankly I don’t get why you’re angry with me for believing him.”

“You’d believe anything that came out of his mouth, let’s be honest. Don’t think I’ve not seen you two hanging about.” Ron rolled his eyes.

Violet sighed, trying to remain composed at his comment that she would just blindly follow Harry as if she wouldn’t consider all the facts. “It wouldn’t matter if me and Harry were joined at the hip or not - you’re his best friend, and you let him down.”

She rose from the bench, pulling on her scarf and coat as she did so, with Hermione following suit. She appeared to be just as annoyed as Violet was, so the minute they were out of earshot of Ron they both started complaining rather freely and heartily about the boy.

“He  _ certainly _ can’t say he’s worried about Harry and then say all that to you - gosh, Violet, I’m  _ so _ sorry about him!” Hermione told her.

“That’s sweet of you, but I think I’d rather hear that apology from him later on,” she replied. Other students were already on their way down to the location of the first task - which was a specially built stadium quite far from the grounds.

Along the way they ran into Ginny and quietened down on their ranting about her brother. Violet went completely quiet - it had been a while since she’d last spoken to Ginny, and in that time she had realised her steadily growing feelings for Harry; something that would conflict with the other girl. She couldn’t bring herself to talk around her, lest she said something stupid or acted in a strange way.

She ended up walking on ahead the closer they got to the stadium, and that was when she noticed a small tent attached to it; casting a glance back at Hermione and Ginny, Violet made a beeline for it.

She pulled back the flap of the tent ever so slightly, trying to see where Harry was; in the process, she was almost spotted by Cedric to dipped back out of sight. She caught a glimpse of her friend, though, and began to whisper for his attention.

“Harry? It’s Violet,” she said quietly. She watched as his silhouette appeared on the other side of the fabric between them, her heart beating too loudly for her liking. “How are you feeling? Now you’re here?”

“Well… about as fine I can be,” he said. She could hear the half smile in his voice.

“Confident?”

“Hardly.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on… after everything I’ve gone through with you the past two weeks?”

“ _ That _ gives me confidence. Battling a dragon doesn’t,” he murmured.

“Right. Of course. That makes sense…” Violet sighed quietly. “I should… probably go. I sort of ditched Hermione and Ginny to come down here…”

“Wait!”

He’d reached outside of the tent and pulled her inside it - and in for a hug at the same time. Violet was most certainly taken aback by it.

“Thank you,” he murmured into her shoulder.

“Anytime,” she said.

Any semblance of a nice moment was taken away by a large flash. The two of them broke apart to see Rita Skeeter and her photographer approaching them; the former woman positively pleased at such a sweet sight.

“Would you look at that? The quiet girl likes Potter!” She was talking to a floating quill and notebook next to her. “How charming.”

Violet went to say something, but Harry shook his head as a warning. He gave her a knowing look, and she thought back to all the  _ Daily Prophet _ articles Skeeter had been recently spouting about him, so stood down.

“Or perhaps they’re just friends,” Cedric piped up, walking over to the four of them. “The quiet girl has a name, you know - not that you deserve to know it anyway. And I dread to think how you know she’s the quiet girl. Maybe you should leave.”

Needless to say, Violet couldn’t keep the shock off her face due to Cedric standing up for her and Harry like that. Before she could even say thank you, he turned to them and gestured with his head for her to go.

“Good luck, Harry. I’ll see you later,” she said to her friend before hurrying off before anybody else saw her.

She made her way up into the stands of the stadium, managing to find Hermione and Ginny pretty quickly - they were also with Ron, whom she elected to ignore.

“Where did you go?” Hermione asked.

“Spoke to Harry. Rita Skeeter was there too…” Violet muttered. “I’ll tell you more about it another time.”

As the tournament began, it was then that everyone realised how truly brutal it was; or at least, everyone who thought Harry had somehow put his name into the Goblet of Fire. The moment Cedric stepped out into the arena to go and collect the golden egg and face off a dragon (all, of course, wonderfully commentated by Ludo Bagman), Violet risked a glance at Ron to see him go white as a sheet.

It was horrifying, and Violet couldn’t bear to watch. She mostly hid behind her fingers as Cedric, then Fleur, then Krum managed to fend off their respective dragons and retrieve their eggs. It was only when Harry came out that Violet managed to watch normally, not between her fingers like the rest of the crowd.

The worst part was that they all saw the dragon before him, and he nearly got walloped by it due to his sheer focus of trying to get to the egg. Of course, he ended up getting hit by the dragon a few times, as well as nearly being set on fire.

_ What the hell was he doing? _

Before Violet could even vocalise that thought to Hermione, her friend was already yelling: “Your wand, Harry! Your wand!”

How he managed to hear her - actually, Violet didn’t particularly care. He had already cast the Summoning Charm for his  _ Firebolt. _ Well, she had to give him credit where credit was due. That was clever. It did ultimately mean that he took off from the stadium - the dragon going with him. All they could hear were the roaring sounds and the odd scream from Harry, until it went deathly silent.

Violet’s heart dropped into her stomach; Hermione must have felt the same, as she gripped onto her hand. It seemed to be a competition between the two of them who could squeeze the other’s hand the hardest.

Then when they were thinking the absolute worst.

That’s when they heard it.

The distinct, sharp rush of wind as Harry came speeding back towards the stadium.

The scream of sheer delight that erupted from Hermione’s mouth made Violet jump, but she couldn’t hold back relief herself, pretty much collapsing against the barrier in tears as Harry finally made his way to the egg, retrieving it at last.

* * *

Violet couldn’t speak for the other houses, but by  _ god _ did Gryffindor house know how to throw an excellent party - perhaps even the best, in her eyes. Everyone was in the celebratory mood because Harry had achieved some of the highest marks for his go against the dragon in the first task. She had a sneaking suspicion that all the beverages and food that were currently present in the Common Room had most definitely been sorted out by the resident mischief makers Fred and George.

Now it absolutely did not matter if Violet thought the parties were good, but Violet never participated in them. It was far too much for her liking. For today, however, she kept out of sight towards the back of the Common Room, watching as Fred and George lifted Harry up onto their shoulders (the latter with the golden egg), while the whole of the house was cheering him on.

As much as she was relieved that Harry had gotten through one task, Violet knew that her relief would be short lived when the second task inevitably crept up on him. She still couldn’t believe that they had allowed this to carry on - Harry was far too young, they all must have known by now that he most definitely did not put his name in the Goblet. She wondered if this raging support from Gryffindor also stemmed from relief that he hadn’t been a complete gonner.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been too bashed up. He still needed to go see Madam Pomfrey about his shoulder which had a particularly nasty scrape on it; he’d been swept up by the crowds back to the Common Room before he could even go there. Violet made a mental note to drag him there if need be.

She was rudely brought out of her thoughts by Harry opening the egg - it screeched horrifically across the room, causing Fred and George to drop the boy as they followed suit with everyone putting their hands over their ears until he closed the egg up again.

“What the bloody hell was that?!” came Ron’s voice from the portrait hole.

Fred made sure that nobody eavesdropped on the entailing conversation between the two friends, while Violet inched closer to listen in on them.

“...Everyone was thinking it behind your back,” she managed to catch the end of whatever Ron had said.

“Brilliant. That makes me feel loads better,” Harry replied.

“At least I warned you about the dragons.”

“Hagrid warned me about the dragons.”

“Oh no no, I did. Don't you remember? I told Hermione to tell you that Seamus told me that Parvati told Dean that Hagrid was looking for you,” Ron then explained very quickly, turning bashful a moment after. “Seamus never actually told me anything, so it was really me all along. I thought you'd be alright, you know, after you figured that out.”

Harry looked at his friend oddly. “Who could possibly figure…” He slowly started turning towards Violet, who was now pleasantly surprised, “that… out… oh my  _ god! _ ”

Ron glanced between the two of them. “What? What’s going on?”

Harry sighed, shaking his head as he chuckled. “Violet said that the whole thing might have been your way of trying to make peace!”

“Well… she wasn’t wrong there. And Vi, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I’ve been a bit of a git, haven’t I?”

She shrugged, but shot him a small smile. “It’s alright. Nothing I can’t handle.” She then pointedly looked at Harry’s gashed shoulder. “You need to go to the Hospital Wing and get that sorted out.”

“I can do it later-”

“No.  _ Now. _ They’ll all still be here when Madam Pomfrey is done.”

“True. Come with?”

“Obviously,” Violet raised an eyebrow at him, and he started to head out of the Common Room with her right behind him.

“What did Ron say to you this morning?” Harry asked her once they were alone.

“He might have made a remark about me believing anything you’d say… also about us two hanging out together. I wonder if he thinks there’s something more going on,” she told him carefully, yet awkwardly. Violet’s eyes darted to Harry to see he was now just as pink in the cheeks as she was. “Which there’s not.”

“No. Definitely not. We’re just close.”

“Yeah! Exactly.”

And for what would not be the last time, the moment under the tree in Violet’s garden was in their minds. Malfoy’s comments about them having a “lover’s quarrel” drifted to the surface, somehow ringing loudly in their ears too. Rita Skeeter’s shrill “the quiet girl likes Potter!” somehow echoed throughout the quiet halls of Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are 3 chapters away from the Yule Ball!! Perhaps the most exciting part of this fic so far. Heh. Thanks for all the support, it means a lot!


	33. Waltz With Me, Potter

The following Monday, Violet was the last to get down to the Great Hall for breakfast out of her friends. She’d admittedly been sitting up in bed reading ahead for Transfiguration that day and time had gotten away from her, so a very flustered version of herself greeted her friends as she practically ran into the hall, desperately trying to put her hair into some kind of neat ponytail - eventually forgoing it.

She skidded to a halt next to Hermione, who promptly dropped a piece of buttered toast onto the plate in front of her as she sat down. “Thanks,” Violet said immediately tucking in. “Time got away from me,” she added through a mouthful.

“It happens,” Hermione said brightly, getting back to the Daily Prophet she had been skimming through. Her face then dropped a few moments later. “Oh no…”

That got all of their attention.

“What?” Harry said, suspicious. Since his visit to Madam Pomfrey, he was sporting a sling for his left arm. “What’s happened?”

Hermione looked rather uncomfortable, her eyes flicking back and forth between Harry and Violet before sighing and ultimately reading from the newspaper out loud. “ _ A usually timid girl, Miss Violet Merryworth seems to have taken a liking to famous, yet controversial wizards. Whilst initially being known as the werewolf Remus Lupin’s niece, it appears as if she is seeking the affections of the Triwizard Champion, Harry Potter. An unlikely pairing, but apparently dynamic when it comes to Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, Mr Potter and Miss Merryworth have grown steadily closer over the past year at Hogwarts together, effectively starting rumours about a budding romance-” _

Violet snatched the paper away from Hermione to read it for herself. “That… that…” she shut her mouth so tight her lips drew into a thin line.

“Vi, just say it,” Ron egged her on. “We all want you to, trust me.”

“That  _ hag _ !” She tossed the paper over to Harry who was trying to hold back a smirk at her little outburst - which then slowly started to slide off his face the further he went into reading the article. Meanwhile Ron was chuckling into his cereal at Violet’s reaction.

“I mean she got one thing right,” Harry said once he’d finished reading, handing the Prophet back to Hermione. When Violet shot him a quizzical look. “You do want a quiet life.”

She rolled her eyes and was silent the rest of the breakfast, effectively sulking as she ate her toast. Not even the entertainment of Ron being sent the most ghastly, ugly looking dress robes could cheer her up. At least, not until she remembered what they were for, once she recalled the conversation she and Hermione had had about whether or not to tell the boys about the fact they discovered that the Triwizard Tournament traditionally held a ball in winter time.

So while the unexpected gathering of the whole of Gryffindor house in one of the spare, smaller halls of Hogwarts by McGonagall was a surprise, the announcement of the Yule Ball was less so. Violet and Hermione turned to each other rather excitedly about it, ready to mutter away like the rest of the girls before McGonagall called for silence. Things got even better when Ron was called up to demonstrate how to do a waltz correctly.

“So I guess we need to find someone to ask us?” Violet whispered to Hermione as they watched their friend suffer through the embarrassment of having to dance with his teacher.

“Or  _ hope _ someone asks… we don’t really need to do anything. Unless you want to ask someone?”

Violet hesitated for a moment. “No. Nobody comes to mind,” she replied, trying not to look at Harry across the room as she did so. Hermione didn’t buy it.

“Come on, you like him, don’t you?” she pressed.

“Not like that, no,” Violet was lying through her teeth. “We’re just close. So going as friends would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“Right,” Hermione still didn’t believe her in the slightest.

“Who would  _ you _ want to ask you?”

“Ron would be the logical choice there-”

“Okay - everybody - on your feet,” McGonagall announced, briefly breaking away from Ron to try and get everyone up.

Even though all the girls were eager to get up and learn how to dance, Violet was somewhat more reserved. It was only at the encouragement of Hermione that she tried to be more open about the very notion of learning to dance. Still, with some reluctance, she stood up. She nervously glanced at the row of boys opposite to see that only Neville was prepared to put the effort in, and that sparked something in her.

Violet took a tiny step forward so she was out of line with the other girls, making eye contact with Harry as she did so. As if something else was possessing her entirely, she took a few more steps across the room with her hand outstretched towards him, stopping just a couple of metres in front of him.

The look of pure horror on Harry’s face suggested he knew exactly what was coming, even if the way it slipped out of Violet’s mouth was entirely different to how she expected it.

“Waltz with me, Potter?”

Her eyes widened and she abruptly dropped her hand, turning away as she did so. She could feel her face growing hot, the embarrassment beginning to set in - except she was saved from it. Before she could even walk back towards the girls, Harry had taken hold of her wrist. She faced him again to see he was standing up, less horrified now and more amused instead.

“Yeah alright, Merryworth.”

It was a little awkward since his left arm was in a sling, but he played that as the hand that should be on her waist, but the one that was holding her wrist slipped down into her hand and he raised it to a more appropriate height. Violet rested her free hand on his shoulder, which pleased McGonagall to no end.

“That’s the spirit, you two! See everyone? Follow Potter and Merryworth’s lead - be  _ brave _ , like our founder would be!”

Somehow, that prompted more of the boys to reluctantly get up and find a partner. It meant that there were less eyes on the pair of them, which Violet was thankful for because whatever moxy she’d mustered up in the past few moments had vanished completely. Her jaw was set tight, and she avoided looking Harry in the eye directly, opting to keep her eyes on his collar instead.

They did their best to follow McGonagall’s instruction, as difficult as it was with Harry’s non-functioning arm. Eventually he gave up trying to be careful and slipped it out of the sling and just put his hand on her waist; Violet’s heart fluttered. She must have given something away, because when she glanced up at Harry, he was looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Everything okay?” he mumbled to her.

She cleared her throat. “Peachy keen. Although… I’m dancing with Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.”

He rolled his eyes, but grinned at her anyway. There went her fluttering heart again. And butterflies. Butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

“Wouldn’t call this dancing,” he then said, perhaps a little stiffly. Violet had to stop herself from frowning at that. Was  _ he _ okay? As smiley as he was being right now, there was a strained glint in his eyes.

“Everything okay?” she echoed his previous sentiment.

“Peachy keen,” he repeated what she said, and it made her laugh.

“I think we both walked into that one there,” Violet admitted.

“Don’t you mean  _ waltzed _ ?”

Whatever restraint, whatever stilted, awkwardness that had been holding them back in that moment had suddenly vanished. It was just… normal Harry and normal Violet again, all her feelings for him forgotten as they carried on about the rest of the session as the close friends they truly were. Even if them joking their way through waltzing led to more and more stares from the rest of their fellow housemates, with particular scrutiny coming from Hermione.

They had a month overall to find someone to go to the Yule Ball with as it was to be held on Christmas Day. There was a strange, frantic nature to the air at Hogwarts - perhaps it was to do with the raging hormones of all the teens that were allowed to go to the ball, and thus asking out their various crushes was making everyone go a little more wild.

Violet tried her best to split her time between the library with Hermione, and being with the boys when the four of them weren’t together as a whole group. Somehow, getting time with Harry on his own was particularly difficult; not that she minded, but the fact they’d spent weeks alone in their secret room, suddenly not having that made her somewhat less sociable than normal. She’d completely slipped back into mostly listening in on conversations rather than participating.

All the while, she was wrestling with the fact she desperately wanted Harry to ask her to the Yule Ball, only it never came up in their quiet moments together. Maybe it was because they were in the Common Room when they were alone at this point. Or maybe he was never going to actually ask her and she was going to have to resign herself to that fact.

It led to her having a quiet rant to Hermione in the library one mid December afternoon.

“He keeps giving this look when we’re alone - like he’s waiting for something,” Violet hissed to her as they worked their way through Charms homework. “But no. When he does open his mouth it’s to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts or the egg or… just silly little things, really. Do you think he’s actually going to ask me or go for someone else?”

“Honestly if he doesn’t ask you, I’ll be having words,” Hermione replied. “He’d be stupid not to. Although… I  _ have _ seen him gawking at Cho, but it’s not the way he looks at you.”

Violet chewed on the inside of her cheeks, her brow furrowed. “It’s like on the train that time. When it was obvious he was in a pretty good mood because of her. But how  _ does _ he look at me?”

“Surely you’d notice that?”

She shrugged uneasily. “There’s a way he looks at me when  _ I’m _ looking at him - like I said, like when we’ve been alone when we talk. But what are  _ you _ on about?”

Hermione was clearly trying to stop herself from smiling, but paused in her writing. “He watches you reading. Quite a lot, actually. It’s very sweet.”

“O-Oh. Right…” Violet pursed her lips. “Kind of like how VIktor Krum has been watching you, then?”

“Shh!” Hermione hissed at her. “He’s only over there!” She gestured with her head, so when Violet turned to look at him, her face dropped.

“And heading this way…”

The two girls tried to make it look like they hadn’t just been talking about him, only giving him attention when he cleared his throat.

“I know I don’t know your name yet, but… I vas vondering… if you vould like to go to ze ball vith me?” Krum directed the question at Hermione, who was positively gobsmacked.

“I…” Hermione looked at Violet for help, who then immediately got back to her work. “Yes, actually,” she eventually answered. “I think I would. I’m Hermione Granger. Pleasure.” She held out her hand to shake, and was even more surprised when he took hold of it and placed a kiss on the back of her knuckles.

“Ze pleasure is all mine,” he told her with a wonderfully charming smile before heading back over to the table he was working at.

When she was sure he wasn’t going to be listening in, Violet became rather excited and confused all at once.

“Hermione! I thought you wanted Ron to ask you?!”

“Yes, but he hasn’t… besides, even I’ve noticed Viktor staring at me. It’s a bit odd - I’m surprised he’s not taking one of his  _ many _ fangirls…”

“That’s probably the point - you’ve just acted normal around him. Not like he’s a Quidditch star or anything like that!” Violet pointed out.

“The same goes for you in that regard.”

“And then you add Harry into the equation…”

“Right. And Viktor would have seen you two together before the first task,” Hermione mused. “So… do you like him? Harry? Be honest with me, Violet.”

The girl in question sighed and set down her quill, leaning back in her chair with her arms folded as she thought it over. She did - she really did like him. The more she thought about it, the more she came to realise that Bill had definitely been right all along. Especially with all the time alone she’d had with Harry and how close they’d become, it was increasingly difficult to ignore.

Resigned to that fact she had reached that conclusion - riddled with guilt about Ginny in the process - and understanding Hermione would have eventually gotten an answer out of her further down the line anyway, Violet sighed and nodded.

“Find time alone with him where you can,” Hermione urged her. “He’ll ask you then. I know he will.”

“I’ve tried that for the past couple of weeks and it’s done absolutely nothing - it’s rare for us to get time on our own now. I miss it.”

“I know you do. You’ve been awfully quiet recently. Out of curiosity - you mentioned on the train that Bill asked you about this. Have you considered getting in touch with him?”

“No, I haven’t, actually. I don’t know if I want to…” She started picking at the skin around one of her thumbnails. “Ginny likes Harry too. You already knew that, though. Bill told me about it when we had our little chat at the Burrow…”

“I know she’s his sister, but it seems like you’re just as worried about it as he is. Send him an owl.”

“No - no, nothing’s going to come out of it anyway…” Violet was waving her off. She didn’t want to involve another person in this - it was too trivial. “Besides, as much as I want Harry to take me to the ball, it doesn’t mean I outright want to be his girlfriend or anything like that. I’m not risking my friendship with him for that. Our friendship is far more important to me.”

Hermione tilted her head to the side, considering Violet’s words. “That’s a good way of looking at it. Okay. Fine. But if he doesn’t ask you to the ball, I’m going to be  _ very _ annoyed on your behalf.”

They went back to their work after that.

The conversation led Violet to trying to get more time alone with Harry but to no avail. Ron would always end up coming with them - particularly because it was usually to do with homework. It was only a mildly irritating situation, especially when there was one evening where she and Harry managed to get time on their own in the Common Room to do homework together.

Then Ron joined them ten minutes after the fact. Even Harry appeared put out by that. Either way, the three of them carried on with homework in silence until-

“Hey, Violet!” A distinctly Irish voice drifted towards her. Violet peered up from the Charms textbook she was reading from to see Seamus Finnigan standing rather nervously before her.

“What’s up, Seamus? Need a hand with the Banishing Charm?” she said, offering him a warm smile. Her other housemates rarely spoke to her, so Violet had taken to assuming that they normally wanted something from her. She didn’t mind that, in all honesty, but did find it amusing.

“No! No, thanks, I think I’ve got that one down…” He kept glancing between her, Harry, and Ron before awkwardly clearing his throat. “Ehrm… I was wondering… if you fancied coming to the Yule Ball with me?”

Anyone could have heard a pin drop at their table. Violet had to stop her jaw from dropping open because that was the last thing she’d been expecting to come out of Seamus’ mouth. She carefully closed the textbook and set it down on the table before giving the boy her full attention.

“Seamus, that’s… very sweet of you, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. Sorry.” She shot him a sheepish smile.

“Oh! Oh, okay - ehrm, never - never mind. Are - are you going with someone else?” He was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, his face turning redder and redder with every passing second.

“Er…” Violet looked at her two friends to help her, but that was apparently the wrong move to make. Seamus caught the fact she’d looked at Harry and a sudden realisation dawned on his face.

“Of  _ course _ ! Of course you’d be going with Harry - you two get along  _ so well _ , should have seen it coming, really…” He turned to Harry who was now stunned into silence, as was Violet. “Harry, mate, real sorry about that. I’ll see you guys in Herbology tomorrow…”

With a big grin and waving off the entire thing, Seamus headed back over to Dean Thomas on the opposite side of the Common Room.

“Oh my god...” Violet squeaked out, sinking down into her seat and covering her face with her palms.

“You two are going together?” Ron hissed at the pair of them, not impressed that he was only just finding out this (fake) knowledge.

“What? No, no - no we’re not going together. I’ve not asked anyone yet!” Harry told him in a hushed tone.

“And he’s definitely not asked me…” Violet groaned. She was halfway under the table now. Finally she slipped off her chair and landed with a thud on the floor.

Both Harry and Ron winced at the sound, with the former going to help her off the floor. She refused to move her hands from her face which made the entire ordeal harder to deal with. It certainly wasn’t helped by the fact that Hermione had come back from the library at this point either.

“For goodness’ sake - Violet, what are you doing?” She aided Harry in getting the profusely embarrassed girl to stand up. Her hands did not leave her face. “Harry, what happened?”

“Seamus asked her to the ball… she said no… then he assumed I was going with her…”

At that, Violet hastily gathered up her things and ran up to the girl’s dormitory, her three friends staring after her in bemusement. Ron shook himself out of it first, though.

“You know what? Bed seems like a good idea…” he said, before retreating upstairs himself.

Once he was gone, Hermione rounded on Harry, her eyes ablaze with an intensity that made Harry recoil ever so slightly. “You told me  _ last week _ you were going to ask Violet to the ball!” she said to him in an angry whisper. “Why haven’t you?”

“I - I - I dunno, can’t find the right moment…” he mumbled lamely.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry James Potter! The amount of time you two spend together - you’ve had  _ more _ than enough time. You ask her, or I  _ will _ go tell her to go and take up Seamus’ offer! Is that clear?”

He nodded quickly, adjusting his glasses too. Hermione seemed to simmer down after that, and patted him on the shoulder. “I know how much she means to you, and how badly you want to take her to the ball. She wants you to as well. You mean a lot to her, too.”

Harry nodded again and sank back down into his seat. Hermione took up residence in the chair that Violet had been in previously. He let out a deep sigh and fiddled with his quill for a few moments before giving in to what was going through his mind.

“Hermione… I… I really like her,” he muttered.

“I know you do-”

“No. I mean… I  _ really _ like her.”

There was a small smile on her face. “I  _ know. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even sorry for how quickly I updated this.


	34. Go With Me, Merryworth

A week and a half. He had a week and a half until the Yule Ball. Harry swore to himself (and Hermione, at that) that he would ask Violet by the end of the week. Only, every time he saw her for the remainder of it a horrific knot formed in his stomach and his chest tightened. He’d struggle to even say anything normal around her, because he’d openly admitted to Hermione that he  _ liked _ Violet. It was an alien feeling to him, to like someone strongly in that way. Sure, there had been other times he’d  _ liked _ people at Hogwarts, but nothing quite compared to this.

Perhaps admitting it out loud had been a bad idea, because when Violet joined their group at breakfast the next day his mouth went completely dry when saying “hello” to her that morning, his voice coming out far more hoarse than intended. No amount of pumpkin juice could help, no amount of drink could quench him; he could only form some sort of reasonable thought when  _ she _ said something to  _ him. _

She had her hair down that morning. Harry’s heart skipped a beat when he saw her approaching the table with it swishing about in those long, messy tresses that he was so used to seeing in a tight plait. She was stressed. They had Defence Against the Dark Arts that morning. Violet with her hair down was a clear sign that she was worried and he mentally slapped himself for not being able to say anything to help.

Like a damn fool, Harry kept his mouth shut and gulped down pumpkin juice like there was nothing more satisfying in the world (except for any words that might come out of Violet’s mouth, of course). She said very little at breakfast, opting to read a book instead.

A good enough reason for Harry’s heart to jump into his throat and permanently lodge itself there as another way of making sure he couldn’t talk - yet, as soon as that feeling had come over him, it went away as the serenity of a calm Violet reading a book ebbed over to him. Finally, he could relax that morning, and eventually shuffled closer to her.

“Shall we go for a walk before class starts?” he asked her quietly, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

It caught her off guard. She was flustered in her response. “Er - um - yeah. Sure. That sounds nice.”

“Great. Good.” He nodded once, abruptly and awkwardly, aware of the fact Hermione was watching him intently as the pair pulled on their cloaks and scarves and gloves in preparation to head outside for a little bit.

They were silent until reaching the Entrance Courtyard. The winter breeze was crisp but it caressed their faces in a strangely soothing way, as if trying to calm Harry for what he was about to do. The snow crunches under their feet as they wandered through the courtyard aimlessly as they struck up conversation.

“Don’t worry about Moody,” Harry said.

“Who says I’m worried?” she looked up at him with a frown.

“When you’re stressed you keep your hair down.”

Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. “Oh! I suppose so, yes… I didn’t realise you’d clocked on.”

He shrugged. “Sort of. I had a bit of help from Hermione there.” He left a heavy pause between that and what he said next. “It - it looks good, when you have it down. It’s nice. Different.”

_ Can’t I say the word pretty?  _ Harry thought to himself, realising that this was getting more and more painful with every passing second.

“Look, um - I’ve been meaning to ask you something…” They came to a halt by one of the archways, Violet leaning against it. She appeared to be hiding a hopeful expression, her eyes becoming big and round, almost glassy. “And I’m sorry I never asked sooner but - well, would you - would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

They could have heard a penny drop with the silence that echoed through the courtyard after he posed the question. Violet seemed too awestruck to say anything, so Harry continued talking.

“I wanted to ask you a while ago, but I couldn’t find the right moment? And… I dunno. Maybe I was nervous. Thought you might say no.” He grated his teeth together in thought before carrying on. “Point is - I wanna go with you to the ball. Quite badly. And I was thinking - with all that Rita Skeeter rubbish going on - we don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to. I know you like your privacy. So… go on. Go with me, Merryworth.”

Violet blinked, before cracking out into a shaky smile. “Yeah. Yes. Of course - of course I’ll go with you. And that’s um - that’s very sweet of you to want to keep things private. That means a lot.”

“Yeah, well, I know you’ve been worried about some of the stuff she’s been saying recently as well. Plus it might be fun - another secret, on top of the room we found.”

She giggled - properly giggled, and it was childish and lovely all at once to the point it made Harry beam at her. “I really like the sound of that. Thank you. I think the ball is going to be a lot more fun knowing that I’m going with one of my best friends.”

“Yeah! Yeah, I think so too. Going to a dance with one of my best friends. What more could I want, right?”

“Not to be in the tournament?” Violet suggested cheekily. Harry jokingly punched her in the upper arm as they automatically decided to start making their way back into the castle, and thus to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

“Well, there’s that too. Can’t have everything though.”

“No harm in trying.”

They both laughed lightly at that.

Their spirits remained high for the rest of the day, but hidden to an extent. They didn’t want to draw any attention to themselves otherwise they just  _ knew _ their friends would start asking questions. On the flip side of things, Violet had an inkling that Hermione would have figured it out anyway, what with the way she was now appearing a little more open to general conversation again. In an effort to avoid that talk with Hermione, Violet made up some excuse to her friend about how she wanted to give her some alone time in the library so she could spend more time with Viktor, and kept promptly retreating to the Common Room to hang out with Harry and Ron.

By the end of the week, it was becoming increasingly difficult for Harry and Violet to keep their little secret hidden, as for some reason they had become unusually close in a literal sense. Harry had begun making an effort to sit next to Violet on the sofas in such a way that their thighs or knees were brushing against one another’s. Every time it happened, she had to will herself not to blush.

Then on the Friday - just over a week before the ball - Violet received a beautifully wrapped parcel with a note from her parents giving her strict instructions not to open it until the day of the ball. She knew it was the dress her mother had picked out for her to wear. Even at the insistence of Hermione, Violet didn’t open it.

She was really beginning to get excited now.

There was just one problem: Ron still didn’t have a date.

And during a study session in the Great Hall that Snape was overseeing that afternoon, the topic of conversation turned to just that.

Violet was sat across from Harry, Hermione, and Ron (claiming that she needed a little more space to spread out her work, when really it was so she didn’t have to deal with the close contact of Harry in such an open space), as the redhead complained about his and Harry’s apparent lack of luck.

“Listen mate, you’re a Triwizard champion! You need a date!” Ron told Harry in hushed insistence. Violet caught both Harry and Hermione’s eye across the table. She cleared her throat pointedly and carried on writing notes across her many, many scrolls of parchment she hda lying out to keep up with her earlier reasoning.

Taking a deep breath, Harry turned towards Ron. “Actually… I’ve got a date.”

The redhead’s jaw dropped open. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” he said through gritted teeth, annoyed.

“Because…” Harry said carefully. “The person who I asked doesn’t want loads of attention on herself… and I’m going to respect that. She likes her privacy.”

Violet’s cheeks were slowly becoming flushed as time went on, and she furiously carried on with her work. She knew it would get to a point in the next few minutes where Harry would confess it was her, and she was oddly fine with that. So long as nobody else outside of their group heard it.

Ron snorted. “Okay. Right. So the girl doesn’t want attention but goes with the most famous boy at school? Alright then…”

In a brief moment of anger, Violet knocked over her pot of ink. She hissed under her breath and fished out her want to use the Scouring Charm to clean up the mess before Snape wandered back over and saw. She wiped her inky hands on her skirt after putting her wand away, aware of the fact her three friends were watching her intently now.

“Mate, that’s just asking for attention,” Ron then carried on to Harry. “Go on. Who is it?”

Nobody said anything, but Harry kept glancing at Violet; she kept giving him a look to suggest to get the whole ordeal over with. Her jaw had gone taut, as she was not happy with Ron in the slightest.

He sighed. “I asked Violet a couple of days ago, and she said yes,” he whispered to his friend.

Ron’s eyes widened, immediately regretting his previous comments as he finally turned to look at Violet, who was in the process of gathering up her possessions as she was done with her work.

“Asking for attention, am I, Ronald?” she said tetchily as she rose from the bench.

“Violet-”

“Nope. Didn’t realise I was such an attention seeker.” She slung her bag over her shoulder, swiftly marching towards the doors of the Great Hall, absolutely seething. Ron absolutely did not get to make comments like that when he didn’t even have anybody to go with!

Upset enough that she wanted to to hide, Violet practically ran up to the seventh floor corridor and into the room. Almost immediately she felt herself calming at the projected starry sky in there, and she sighed in relief as she dropped her bag to the floor and went to collapse onto one of the beanbags. Perhaps she would simmer down after some time alone, but to be referred to as an attention seeker got to her in a way she couldn’t imagine.

Was it a mistake to go with Harry then, if that was the case?

No - no - she wouldn’t let those comments get inside her head, not when she’d started looking forward to the ball…

She internally argued with herself for some time; she realised that she’d really be at the scrutiny of the entire school going with Harry to the ball and the very idea of all eyes on her made her want to curl up and not put herself out in the world again. Alternatively, Harry was one of the best friends. Surely she should allow herself some sort of joy? A fun night?  _ With _ her friend? There was nothing wrong with that, and it didn’t matter if he was famous or not.

She must have drifted off to sleep, because she was being shaken awake by Harry. He was relieved to see her, and he sat back on his haunches while she rubbed her eyes and sat up.

“You’ve been gone for hours,” he told her. “We all went looking for you.”

Violet sighed. “I’m guessing you knew where I was from the start but played along?”

“Guilty as charged.”

She giggled at that.

“Ron feels bad about what he said, by the way.”

“Maybe there was something worth thinking about from him - what if it’s a bad idea going together? Knowing me and my love for not being the centre of attention,” she murmured.

“It’s one night,” Harry reassured her, now moving to sit next to her on the beanbag. “There’s probably gonna be loads of shocking combinations of couples. It’s just bad luck that I’m famous. Ignore Ron. He is sorry, for what it’s worth.”

“I imagine he is. It’s fine. If you still want to go with me - then that’s all I care about. I want it to be a good night, and I don’t think I’d get that with anyone else.”

“What about Seamus?” Harry joked with a smirk.

“Shut up - I don’t wanna think about that. I can’t  _ believe _ that actually happened.”

“He’s going with Lavender now, anyway. And we found a date for Ron - Padma.”

“Really? In the few hours I was in here you managed to get Ron a date?”

“Yep. There was also an incident where he asked out Fleur Delacour…”

That perked her up. “I think I need to hear about this from the boy himself.”

“You can try. He’s still traumatised by the whole ordeal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thanks so much for the response on the previous chapter. I hope I've fulfilled your Varry shipper hearts with this one! The Yule Ball is next up, and it's split into two chapters for maximum emotional rollercoaster effect.


	35. The Yule Ball: Part I

Christmas Day.

The Yule Ball.

Oh, everyone could feel the excitement in the air.

The good news was that Violet and Ron were on perfectly good terms again, and he had been more than happy to tell her about the Fleur Delacour incident in the lead up to the ball. As embarrassing as it had been at the time, he certainly had found the humour within it - to a point.

She, him, Harry, and Hermione began their Christmas Day exchanging gifts. Lots of books for Violet and Hermione alike; plenty of Quidditch related trinkets and books for Ron, and finally a little bit of everything for Harry. Violet thought getting him more advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts related books for Christmas (and even his birthday) seemed like a nice niche to go for (and he returned in kind with Potions books). They all got their respective knitted jumpers from Mrs Weasley along with some fudge, except with not as much time to enjoy them as they liked - the girls wanted to spend the afternoon taking as long as possible to get ready for the ball.

Hermione was particularly excited to see Violet’s dress, because the girl had kept it well hidden (meanwhile, she’d seen Hermione’s gorgeous pink number, and the matching earrings to boot). In fact, Parvati, Padma, and Lavender were all eager to see what Violet would be dressing up in. It was a rather dramatic affair when Violet pulled the box out from under her bed and took her time unwrapping it.

The breath was knocked out of her when she saw what her mother had sent her. Then she frowned. Then she teared up. There were far too many emotions running through her head at the same time when she saw the dress, standing up and holding it against herself in disbelief.

“I - I’m really going to look like a proper grown up tonight, aren’t I?” she asked the girls shakily. They all agreed, telling her how pretty the dress was - how  _ different _ and  _ beautiful _ she’d look.

The dress itself was lilac in colour, and it shimmered when the right lighting hit it. It was made of mostly chiffon, the skirt itself floor length and gathered at the waist so that it should - in theory - drape downwards delicately like the prettiest curtain one did ever see. The bodice part was again, made up of the shimmery, lilac chiffon, and it was sleeveless with a modest, halter neckline. It didn’t quite cover the scars going across her left shoulder, but it was enough for Violet. She admired the simple design, and the fabric made her realise her mother was going for something princess-like in an effort to make her feel special.

Well, it had certainly worked, but it also made her feel self conscious.

She had to talk to Harry while wearing this. She had to  _ dance _ with Harry while wearing this. That, combined with the fact that all the girls with her now were staring at her in awe made Violet turn a deep red colour.

“Violet!” Lavender squealed. “You’re going to look  _ amazing. _ Who’re you going with?”

Her eyes widened and she whipped around, flinging the dress down onto her bed.

“Does - does it matter?” she asked, worried. She really didn’t want to have to say. She didn’t want everyone getting overly excited about it.

“Well - no - but you all know who we’re going with,” Parvati said. “It’s only fair. Unless you’re not going with anyone?” She was trying to be funny; trying to tease her, but all it did was serve to increase Violet’s discomfort.

“I  _ am _ going with someone,” she sighed, sitting down on the bed next to the dress. She kept running her fingers over it, still in shock and disbelief she owned something so beautiful and grown up.

“Then who?!” Lavender was getting far too into this. Violet looked to Hermione for help; instead her friend gave her a pitying look, as if suggesting to get it over with now so she wasn’t bombarded later at the ball.

“I… might be going with Harry,” Violet told them tentatively.

“Knew it.” Padma gave her a rather mischievous grin. “Do you reckon you’ll start dating him at one point?”

“Girls - come on.” Hermione finally stepped in, much to Violet’s relief. “That won’t be happening. They’re just very close friends - comfortable around each other - and I do believe it’s  _ just _ as awkward for Harry to be in this position. Although only Ron knows out of the boys and the rest of the school. So  _ keep quiet! _ ”

“Wait - you really think Harry is feeling odd about us two having to dance together as well?” Violet asked, a little confused.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You can observe everything except that?  _ Really? _ Did you ever wonder why it took him so long to ask you to the ball?”

Violet winced. “I suppose you’re right, there.” She took a deep breath, looking at the dress. “Safe to say I’ve never had to dress up like this before. Are you lot up for helping me with hair and makeup?”

She wasn’t sure if that question had been a blessing or a curse. Either way, it was nice to have some sort of girl time that afternoon, where they all excitedly helped each other sort out hair and makeup. It seemed as if the rest of them were going for elegance, whereas for Violet they realised they had to go with something a little more… in the realms of making her permanently messy locks actually presentable. If her hair wasn’t in a plait, it was a strange concoction of wavy and straight, with the odd irritating knot here and there.

It took two of them to sort out the lengthy mass. It took about an hour and a half, but when Hermione and Lavender were done, Violet’s hair was in beautiful curls that fell to just above her elbow. There had been some silver, floral hair barrettes in the box with her dress, and they used them to clip back the left hand side of her hair, as it fell into a side parting with the thicker portion of it biased towards that direction.

Then Parvati did something simple with her makeup. A taupe eyeshadow with a soft, brown eyeliner, a little bit of mascara, and a dusty rose lipstick that appeared to work well with her dress. All that was left for Violet to do was put on her dress (and the pair of silver kitten heels) when it got closer to the time, and she’d be set to potentially embarrass herself in front of the entire school.

She couldn’t help but admit to herself that for once she looked pretty, as she stared at herself in the mirror. Violet didn’t think she’d think of herself like that, always enjoying her rather plain sort of features that she’d proudly inherited from her parents. She didn’t have low self esteem, but she certainly wasn’t vain either - although right now, she could allow herself some sort of vanity there.

Violet helped Hermione put her hair up in some sort of complicated half-up, half-down bun. She and the other girls seemed perfectly capable of doing their own makeup, and it made Violet realise she really,  _ really _ did need to hang around with girls more. If only to do with things like this - the really feminine things she never paid too much notice too - and also because she was just starting to realise how wonderfully gorgeous each of the girls she shared a dorm with truly were.

Perhaps it was because she mostly saw them in school uniform or very casual outfits that their inner beauty didn’t necessarily get a chance to shine through, but as she watched them transform into actual princesses… well, her glancing at them remained as respectful as possible. About as respectful as when she had been staring at Fleur during the entrance of the Beauxbatons to their school…

Parvati, Padma, and Lavender left for the ball without her and Hermione.

It appeared as if for all their giggling and fun that afternoon, they were both truly nervous to go and show face. Only Violet (and apparently Ginny) knew that Hermione was going with Viktor Krum. Only a handful of people knew that Violet was going with Harry and they all promised to keep it to themselves (the girls had said so before leaving).

The friends were left alone, surveying themselves in the mirror, surprised that they were even able to be dressed to the nines like they were.

“How about this? If our dates with the two most famous boys at school go horribly wrong, shall we just dance together?” Violet asked Hermione, who laughed.

“That sounds like a good plan.”

“Perfect. Shall we head down?”

Hermione shifted from one foot to the other uneasily. “You go ahead. For once I want to leave it until the last second. I don’t know how I feel being seen by so many people. I know you’re feeling the same, but… I can tell you want to go find Harry. I’ll be fine. So go.”

“Are - are you sure?”

“Yes,” Hermione urged her. “Go! You look amazing. Harry’d be a fool not to think so either. Between you and me - if something like you being his girlfriend came out of tonight… I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Hermione!”

“Go!”

A pained expression written over her face and a pit in her stomach, Violet reluctantly left Hermione on her own. Every step she took towards down to the Great Hall, the more nervous she became, and it made her regret reading up on the tournament. She knew what was going to happen the moment she and Harry set foot in the hall in front of everyone, and she already hated it. She wished she hadn’t been such an eager learner sometimes.

Fred and George passed her on the way down with their respective dates, and they barely recognised her out of school uniform. That made her feel a little bit better. Violet knew she didn’t look  _ that _ different, but to look different enough she could potentially blend in for a little bit eased her worried mind enough that she didn’t turn and run back at the first sight of people gathering outside the hall when she got there.

Luckily, a lot of people were going in. Few people were lingering outside the Great Hall. She started picking at her fingernails because she couldn’t see Harry anywhere, but being waved over to Cedric and Cho was the distraction she needed.

“Merrywo- Violet!” he corrected himself. “You scrub up well. Have you met Cho before?”

“Thanks, Cedric. And no, I haven’t.” She turned to the Asian girl who she knew to be in the year above her. “Lovely to meet you properly. You - you look really nice.” She shot the older girl a forced smile - she couldn’t bring herself to smile properly at anyone.

“So do you!” Cho’s Scottish accent was soothing to the ear, and it started to calm Violet’s soul. “You look so different. Almost unrecognisable. Usually you’re hidden behind a quill and some books, aren’t you?”

“Yeah… that’s me.”

“Where’s your date?” Cedric asked her.

“Not here yet, apparently.”

“Who is it?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Violet wrapped her arms around herself, glancing around at the remaining people. Padma was clearly still waiting for Ron, while Parvati and Lavender were with their dates - a random Durmstrang boy and Seamus, respectively. She then saw Fleur and her date heading towards their little trio.

_ Nope. Nope. Nope. _

“I’ll see you inside,” Violet abruptly told them, hurrying off back towards the Grand Staircase.

She couldn’t do it. Too many handsome boys. Too many ethereal girls. And a Veela. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t dance with Harry in front of them. Her heart was pounding so much she thought it might burst, Violet would have missed Harry coming down the final few steps into the Entrance Hall had she not looked up in time to make sure she wasn’t going to crash into anyone.

That was when she froze.

So did he.

Ron left the pair of them to head over to Padma.

Violet’s arms dropped to her sides, her eyes wide and her jaw dropping open.

Harry. In dress robes. Sophisticated, bottle green dress robes with a matching waistcoat and a white tie. He’d clearly tried to put some hair gel in to tame it, but  _ nothing on God’s green earth _ could tame that wild hair of his.

Apparently he appeared just as stunned by her appearance too. His lips twitched upwards for a moment as he descended the last step.

Before he could say anything, they were approached by Professor McGonagall.

“Mr Potter! There you are!” Her voice was shrill tonight. “Is this your date? Who - who is it?”

Good, Violet wasn’t recognisable from the back. So she turned to her teacher with a sheepish smile. Even McGonagall seemed surprised.

“Well! Perhaps I should have expected… never mind. Are you ready, Mr Potter? Miss Merryworth?”

“Ready for what?” Harry asked.

“Absolutely not,” Violet replied at the same time.

“To dance, Mr Potter. It’s tradition for the champions to open the Yule Ball. Surely I told you that? Surely Miss Merryworth would have told you that once she found out?”

“No…” Harry glanced at Violet as if to say  _ why didn’t you tell me? _ To which she shrugged.

“Oh. Now you do.”

McGonagall hurried off to go check on the other champions, presumably. That was when Violet noticed Hermione making her way down the stairs and latching onto the arm of Krum. She tried to get Harry to look at their friend, but… he was just staring at her.

“What?” she asked him, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Nothing! Nothing…” He then offered out the crook of his elbow, and she looped her arm through it as they headed over to where all the champions were lined up. They were at the back of the queue. The doors to the Great Hall had been closed as they prepared for their supposedly grand entrance. “Well…” he whispered. “You… I have no words.”

Violet had to stop herself from smiling. “Me too.”

They looked at each other, now the same height due to Violet’s heels. That was when they both cracked out into grins and started chuckling. There they were, two fourteen year olds, about to go dance in front of the whole school with much less awkward couples. Somehow the laughter made the whole ordeal better, although it led to Cedric and Cho glancing back at them rather oddly. They stifled the laughter after that.

It was when the doors opened and they had to walk as gracefully as possible into the hall to rounds of applause that Harry finally said what was actually on his mind.

“You look - you look great,” he whispered. “Sorry that wasn’t very-”

“It’s fine,” she hissed back, trying to keep her head down the minute she noticed someone had clocked it was her with Harry. “Oh god… I can’t do this.”

Once they were out on the floor and taking up the position to begin dancing, Violet took in the decor of the Great Hall. All icy and snowy, glamorous and somehow very Hogwarts all in one. The ice sculptures were a beautiful touch, she noted. Then her eyes dropped to the crowd, and she couldn’t help but let her eyes keep darting from person to person who she could see whispering her name.

“Violet - hey - look at me,” Harry said. “Just look at me. And - well - you’re like, um... beautiful, I think, is the right word.”

She didn’t even get the chance to give him a hushed response as the waltz started playing. How they managed to do it when she was about to freeze in fear was clearly something beyond them. Violet wondered how nervous Harry really was, but it appeared he was putting on more of a brave face for her. She did as he said and kept looking at him - directly in his wonderful green eyes.

When the music swept up high, that’s when all the girls had to literally be swept off their feet by their partners in a little jump. The first once made Violet squeak a little, and it was clear that Harry did everything he could not to laugh right there and then. She began to enjoy it a little more after that, getting into the rhythm of the song.

Her nerves didn’t completely go away though, and any time he caught her gaze drifting, Harry would remind her to keep looking at him. Eventually the dance floor started filling up with more and more couples, and it meant the pair of them could blend into the crowd much easier; that still didn’t quite help, as she was now worried about bumping into people. The fact that they were still dancing as smoothly as they were was definitely bizarre.

It was the most awkward three minutes of her life, and it didn’t end soon enough.

When the song  _ did _ eventually end, Violet took a deep breath and practically collapsed against Harry, throwing her arms around his shoulders as she did so. He wrapped his arms around her, and as the next song started he spun them out of the crowd and towards one of the tables where they sat down. He still kept an arm around her waist.

“We did it,” he told her.

“We did it,” she replied, before tears started welling in her eyes. “But I don’t want to do that ever again. That was horrible! People - they were just…”

“Ignore them. They’re bound to talk. And did you know that Hermione was going with Krum?!”

Violet nodded, wiping her eyes carefully before anything properly spilled down her face. “I was there when he asked her. It was really sweet.”

“You girls…” Harry shook his head before taking off his robe and dumping it on the empty chair next to him. “Do you want a drink? They’ll probably have Butterbeer or something…”

“Yes please,” she said eagerly. She needed something. As Harry wandered off, Violet sagged in her chair a little bit, fanning herself. It was getting warm; all to do with the fact that everyone was having a good time dancing. Well - not everyone, Violet realised, as Ron and Padma came to sit down next to her. The poor girl was rather put out and Ron clearly had no interest in joining in the festivities.

Either way, they both put on better faces when conversing with Violet.

“You looked like you had fun out there!” Padma said.

“I hated every second of it.”

“Couldn’t take your eyes off Harry though…”

“Only because he told me to keep looking at him so I wasn’t bothered by the fact people were… talking.”

“Yeah, I had to tell a few people to shut their mouths,” Ron then said. “None of their business. Can’t have hated every second of it though?”

Violet shifted in her seat, resting her arm on the back of the chair to see where Harry was. He appeared to be bemused by the sheer amount of choice at the drinks table, and it made her smile. She then turned back to Ron.

“There are worse ways to spend Christmas Day other than dancing with your best friend in front of the entire school. I suppose it was funny in some ways. We were trying very hard not to laugh before walking in. It’s so… ridiculous, this whole thing, isn’t it?”

At that point, Harry had wandered back over with two glasses of  _ something _ in his hands. It looked like liquid amber, except it reflected red in some cases.

“You’re telling me,” he said, sinking back down into the chair next to Violet, giving her one of the glasses before raising. “To not completely messing up dancing in front of the entire school?”

“To completely not messing up dancing in front of the entire school,” Violet agreed. They both grinned at each other and clinked their glasses before taking a sip. Immediately, they both gagged. It near enough  _ burned _ her throat on its way down, but it settled nice and warmly in her stomach.

“What - what is that?!” Harry said, disgusted, as he set the glass down on the table.

“I think you picked up Firewhiskey,” Violet replied, also setting her glass down.

“Bloody half bloods…” Ron murmured in jest.

“Shut it,” Harry retorted. “You two not gonna join in?” He gestured to the crowd behind him.

“Yes, Ron,” Padma said, rather tetchy. “Are we not going to dance tonight?”

Harry just shoved Ron between a rock and a hard place.

On realising this, both he and Violet slowly started to get up - currently they had no excuse, until-

“Hermione!” Violet called out, grabbing Harry by the cuff and dragging him over to the girl.

She looked like she was some crazy kind of dream, giddy with joy and in pure disbelief at how much of a good time she was currently having.

“You two!” she crushed them both in a hug. “You were both great!”

“So were you!” Violet told her. “Were we worried for nothing?”

“Possibly.” The smile wouldn’t leave her face. “Come on, me and Viktor’ll come join you wherever you’re sitting, I think once the orchestra finishes up we’re having dinner…”

Of course, it made sense for a few opening numbers for waltzing before settling down for dinner. Padma was long gone from their table when Harry and Violet went back over, but the moment that Hermione joined with Viktor, Ron kept his mouth firmly shut and barely paid them any attention. It made dinner rather awkward and stilted - he barely said anything to Harry and Violet - but they were far more preoccupied with the fact there was pumpkin juice available to drink. They could get rid of the taste that the Firewhiskey had left in their mouths.

Clearly nothing could burst Hermione’s bubble though. For that, Violet was incredibly happy for her. She deserved a night like this - a night off from everything. She felt the same, in all honesty; finally over the initial dance, Violet found herself relaxing. She still found it far easier to chat to Harry and Hermione, as ever, but Viktor seemed lovely enough that she was able to introduce herself, give him a compliment and that was that.

“For one night only, Violet Merryworth speaks to people other than her friends?” Harry raised an eyebrow at her. She batted him on the arm.

“I’m trying to make an effort. Sometimes forced socialisation is a good thing, right?”

“You danced in front of the school - didn’t think small talk would still frighten you.”

“Small talk is a constant in life. Dancing in front of the entire school isn’t. That’s a one off thing,” she reminded him.

The remainder of that conversation was cut short by Flitwick getting up on a stage that was nestled at the back of the Great Hall to make an announcement about a band that “needed no introduction.”

Almost immediately, students started flocking towards the stage, barely giving the professor room to finish what he was saying. Even Hermione and Krum had fled with them.

It was only when the initial riff started, that Violet realised who Flitwick was talking about.

She gripped onto Harry’s wrist so tight he thought she might break it.

“What are you -  _ ow, _ Violet!”

“Sorry! Sorry…” She practically jumped as she let go of him. Pretty much the rest of the students were now rushing towards the stage. “Shall we…?” Violet then cocked her head towards the crowd.

“Are - are you sure?” Harry asked with an eyebrow raised. “You won’t find it-”

“It’s not everyday that The Weird Sisters come to Hogwarts, is it?” She raised her voice so that Harry could hear her better over the music. “One song?”

He nodded once, an uneasy smile on his face. He realised that clearly how he felt on the outside was how Violet felt on the inside about running straight into a crowd of students to dance to some wizard rock. The look in her eyes gave it all away, despite the fact she was practically oozing excitement.

“One song,” he agreed, taking her hand and running towards the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on this chapter for WEEKS now. Hope y'all enjoyed! Things are going to take an interesting turn next chapter... :D


	36. The Yule Ball: Part II

Violet kept to her word, but that may have been down to the fact she did not enjoy being part of a mass dancing crowd. Either way - she made the best of it, dancing with Harry, Hermione, and even Krum in turn, before calling it once  _ Do The Hippogriff _ ended. She pulled Harry by the hand from the crowd, the pair of them having broken out in a sweat.

“That was… something,” she said to him, breathlessly.

“Definitely,” Harry had a grin on his face all the same.

At that moment, Hermione and Krum emerged from the crowd, with the latter departing from her with a kiss to her hand. Harry and Violet tried their best not to smirk as she wandered over to them.

“Hot isn’t it?” she said, a permanent smile fixed to her face. “I think Viktor’s gone to get drinks, care to join us?”

“I think we’re alright,” Harry said. “You go ahead with him.”

Hermione nodded, and hurried off to go find her date. Harry then turned to Violet.

“Do you want to go outside?” he asked her, and she nodded vigorously.

He headed over to Ron and grabbed his robes, telling his friend where he was going with Violet. Clearly, the redhead wasn’t too fussed, looking far more miserable than he did at the start of the night.

When Harry was back with Violet, the pair then started to make their way out of the Great Hall.

Once they had made their way into the courtyard, Violet seemed less tense; being outside and away from everyone really did the trick, although she did wrap her arms around her middle due to how cold it was. Harry handed his robes to her.

“Thanks,” she said, pulling it on.

They started to stroll across the courtyard, past the various carriages (where some students were using them as private kissing booths) and under the walkway.

Before Harry could say anything to her, they heard raised voices.

It was Snape and Karkaroff.

Harry then grabbed her and pulled her out of sight, pushing her against the thickest part of the walkway wall and standing as close as he dared. She stared at him with doe-like eyes, and he pressed a finger to his lips briefly, cocking his head to the side a little bit as he was listening to what the two adults were saying.

Violet - as per usual - listened in too. Although the conversation was rather confusing, and she couldn’t quite make sense of whatever it was that was “happening again,” according to Karkaroff.

It also didn’t help matters that Snape was now busting students for using the carriages to get intimate.

Then the moment Karkaroff asked Snape to roll up his sleeve, Violet had to stop her jaw from dropping open.

_ Surely not…? _

She tried not to let the worry show on her face.

Harry appeared to be confused by the interaction. She made a note to mail her parents about what she had just overheard.

Only when the two teachers had wandered off did she and Harry relax, which was when Violet noticed him looking at her oddly; as if considering something.

Then he suddenly leaned down and kissed her on the lips. For about two seconds. It didn’t last any longer than that.

When Harry pulled away, Violet was left breathless. She didn’t know what to say or how to react, and thankfully she didn’t need to because he was back kissing her again. It was toothy and clumsy, but it was still everything she had wanted for the past few months and then some. The moment she grabbed onto his waistcoat in an effort to stop him from pulling away again, something clicked in Violet’s mind and instead she pushed him off of her, wiping her mouth.

Confused, Harry awkwardly ran his hand through his hair, not sure whether he should look at her or not.

“Sorry, I thought-”

“Well, yes. You - you thought correctly, but…”

“But?”

Violet sighed, and shook her head. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that she liked him. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that this is what she wanted and more. She couldn’t find the words to tell him that he’d been her saving grace in her time at Hogwarts so far, bringing her into a circle of friends she never thought she’d have. That when she was around him she could be brave, that she could shoot for the moon but land in a better place among the stars instead.

“We can’t,” she squeaked out, tears dripping down her cheeks. That finally made him look at her.

“Why not?”

“Because - because you’re my best friend and I don’t want to lose that,” Violet said.

“We wouldn’t. It would be fine. And it’s just a kiss, Violet, it wasn’t like I was-”

Harry stopped short, now beginning to pace up and down in front of her.

“A kiss isn’t just a kiss,” she said, pulling his robes tighter around herself. “So why did you do it?”

He groaned. “Does there have to be a reason?”

“Yes! Nobody kisses one of their best friends without reason!” Violet’s voice was rising in volume with every passing word.

“Well, maybe I do! Not everything needs a logical reason behind it, Violet!” His tone was matching her now, and suddenly she was grateful for the fact that Snape had been chucking students out of the carriages. It meant they were alone outside, nobody to hear the inevitable shouting match that was about to occur.

She stepped away from the wall so she could approach Harry as she talked. “Let me get this straight - you take forever to ask me to the ball, say I’m beautiful,  _ kiss me _ , and then tell me you have no reason for kissing me?!”

“Hey - that’s  _ not _ fair!” he snapped at Violet, stopping in his pacing as he rounded on her. “I told you I couldn’t find the right moment to ask you!”

“Or was it because you were going to ask someone else, hmm?”

“Never!”

“Really?” Violet folded her arms in disbelief. “As if Cedric Diggory hadn’t been running through your mind since we saw him at the Quidditch World Cup? Or maybe even Cho Chang, on the train?”

“Firstly, I don’t think I would have been allowed to go with Cedric, and secondly - you were always,  _ always _ the only option to go to the ball with!” Harry was getting beyond frustrated. “Nobody else! It was always you. The Cedric thing is different.”

She simmered down a little. “I know. No boy would get that flustered around Cedric unless he had feelings for him, right? Do you want to talk about that?”

Harry fell silent, contemplating the fact that although this really wasn’t the time to talk about it, it was possibly the only chance he was going to get to talk about it with Violet, what with the way things were going between them right now.

“Alright, fine. I’ve had a crush on Cedric. Schoolboy crush, I guess. And he’s not the only guy either,” he said plainly. “I think I like girls and guys, Violet, and I think you’re the same, what with the way you look at Fleur every time she enters a room. I saw you run from everyone earlier, when you saw her heading your way.”

“This isn’t about me, right now, it’s about  _ you _ .” As much as Violet realised Harry may have had a point, it wasn’t one that she was ready to talk about. “That’s a problem for another day for me.”

“And for me it isn’t,” he said, sighing. “So you’re right: no boy would get that flustered around Cedric. The good looks are just made better by how kind he is.”

Violet nodded, not sure what to say next.

“There’s a word for this, isn’t there?” Harry asked her.

She nodded again. “Bisexual.”

“Bisexual,” he repeated, as if testing the taste of the word on tongue. “Well. That’s me.”

“Good. Good, I’m glad,” Violet said, with a tiny smile. Soon enough that slid off her face as the atmosphere around them became heavy again, what with their previously unfinished conversation. Harry was the first to address that.

“Maybe… maybe there was a reason I kissed you,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet. “And maybe that reason is scarier than telling you I’m bisexual.”

Violet felt herself freeze up. Her chest felt tight. It was as if she knew what was coming and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear it. Not now, anyway.

“Violet, I like you more than anyone else. That’s why I kissed you. It’s why I asked you to the ball. Because like I said before: it’s only you. It’s always you,” he said to her softly, coming forward and taking hold of one of her hands.

A tender moment passed between the two of them as Harry held Violet’s hand gently; perhaps the first of many, or the only one of its kind. She stared down at their hands, and came to the conclusion that she could either tell the truth or lie. The reality of it was that Violet wasn’t even sure if she was ready to admit that truth to Harry, that she felt the exact same way as him.

It was the opportune time for it. She thought back to Hermione’s words about her possibly being Harry’s girlfriend after tonight, and she realised that wasn’t something she wasn’t ready for yet, as much as she yearned for it right now. She thought back to when Harry asked her to the ball in the first place, and how he respected her privacy enough to say they could keep it a secret. It would have to be the same again. She couldn’t face the world scrutinising her for being The Boy Who Lived’s girlfriend.

Another secret to add to the pile; one too big for her mind and heart at that.

Violet tore her hand out of Harry’s and backed away, the tears streaming down her face. “No,” she breathed.

His face dropped. “W-what?”

She shook her head. “No. You can’t - you  _ can’t _ like me.”  _ Keep going, avoid telling him how you really feel. _

“Why not?”

“Because - because you’re  _ you _ . You’re the Boy Who Lived! And I’m just - I’m just some girl who should have stayed blended into the background instead of becoming close friends with you!” The words had slipped out before Violet could stop herself. She clapped her hands over her mouth, worried about Harry might react.

It took him a few seconds to understand that she had not meant that with malicious intent; that she was concerned about aspects of her life being public. “You’re not just some girl,” he finally said. “You’re brilliant, and clever, and the prettiest girl in the entire school - and I’m not just referring to tonight. I mean that for all the time. I know you’re scared about being - being in the spotlight, but we wouldn’t have to be-”

“That would be something too big to hide. Harry - Harry  _ please _ forget you have feelings for me.  _ Please. _ ”

“Do you even feel the same?”

“I - I don’t know. I don’t think so. Even if I did, I would never,  _ never _ want to risk our friendship for something as trivial as romantic feelings,” she said, the words bitter between her teeth. The lie not sitting right on her tongue.

His shoulders slumped. “Right. So why’d you come with me to the ball? Why were you so nervous when I asked you? Why reject Seamus?”

She frowned. “Is - is it not enough that I wanted to come with you because you’re my best friend? Did I have to have some other motive for saying yes? Me liking you or not wouldn’t matter in this case, because that question was just  _ unbelievable! _ ”

Violet turned and started to rush back into the castle, Harry hot on her heels.

“That’s not what I - Violet - I didn’t mean it like that -”

He managed to grab hold of her wrist and she spun round to yank it out of his grip, slowing to a halt in the middle of the Entrance Hall. There were a few people about, mostly girls comforting each other, and a glance over her shoulder showed that Ron and Hermione had even stopped whatever they were arguing about to watch the pair of them.

“Then how did you mean it?!” Violet’s voice had gone shrill.

“I - I don’t know. But I can’t just forget my feelings for you. That’s not how it works and  _ you _ know that.”

She fumbled to get his robes off, and then balled them up before throwing them back in his arms.

Violet then took a deep breath.

“Then forget about me for a while,” she said in an even tone. “It’s not worth risking out friendship over this.”

“It wouldn’t be risking it-”

“We don’t know that! We don’t know either way!” Violet insisted, sniffing. “And I don’t know if I want to find out!”

Harry said nothing, so that gave her room for the final word.

“I had a really lovely evening until you kissed me, Harry,” she said, her voice finally cracking.

That was like a slap in the face to him. “Right. I see how it is, then.”

He shoved past her roughly and Violet leaned back against the stone wall, crying, but willing herself not to erupt into sobs. She watched as Harry grabbed Ron and tore away up the staircase, disappearing out of sight as they rounded a corner.

Violet caught Hermione’s eye, and her friend came over to give her a warm hug. That was when Violet began to sob, her entire body trembling. Hermione stroked her hair and tried to hush her, which worked after a while.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened yet, but… do you want to go have one dance together and then head to bed?” Hermione offered, pulling back ever so slightly.

Violet sniffed, and nodded. “Did your date go horribly wrong?”

“No. No, Ronald just decided to make me feel bad for even going with Viktor in the first place. Besides, I think you need cheering up right now.”

“Thanks, Hermione. You’re a good friend.”

The two girls then parted from the hug, and instead held hands as they headed back into the hall for one final dance before retiring for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm sorry!!! I needed some sort of angst and tension in here...


	37. Cedric Diggory

Frosty was the only way to describe Harry and Violet’s friendship after that and it made the rest of the Christmas holiday rather awkward for their group of friends. If they had to sit next to each other, it was rather begrudgingly. If they had to talk to each other, it was with few words. Depending on her mood, Violet would still check over his homework, but only if she fancied interacting with him for longer than five seconds.

It had taken a few days after the Yule Ball before Violet told Hermione the full story of what had gone down outside in the Entrance Courtyard, but she was thankful for the support her friends gave her. As much as it was obvious Hermione clearly wanted to smack her upside the head for lying about her feelings, she at least understood why. For the most part, Ron seemed to act fairly normal around her, but Violet assumed (and rightly, as she eventually found from Hermione) that Harry would have told him what had happened.

The entire situation had led to Violet retreating to the library more often with Hermione and Krum. That little addition was fairly odd, but it turned out that before Ron had effectively ruined the mood at the Yule Ball, the pair had actually been getting on very well once given the time to spend alone together. Although Violet didn’t mind Krum constantly joining their study sessions, admittedly she did just want time on her own with Hermione. She didn’t want him to get mixed up in this too, and have opinions of his own about it all.

She wondered what would be easier: pushing through the awkwardness until she and Harry were at a point they were okay with talking again, or shifting away from the group entirely until they got to that point?

Defence Against the Dark Arts was awkward enough, particularly the first lesson back where by default the pair of them automatically went to the desk they always sat at. Then it was a standoff. Neither of them sat down, and just stared at each other until one of them did something else.

Violet swapped with Ron.

Other classes were easier, because she would naturally gravitate towards Hermione anyway. Divination was trickier, because there were only so many tables and she ended up staying with the boys anyway. She would only speak unless spoken to, and if Ron said something she might laugh. Other than that, she merely got on with her work.

It took about two weeks of lessons from being back after the Christmas holidays for Violet to ultimately decide that she hated the stilted nature of how things had become, and decided to part herself from her friends.

Stupid? Yes.

Safe? Of course.

Lonely? Absolutely.

Except she had been so used to living a lonely life without friends for so long that the past one and half years with that group had felt like a mere taste of what the rest of her life could be like. Violet wasn’t sure if falling outs like this were worth being close with others - having friends. Was it worth it? Maybe it was, but she would decide that when she wasn’t so trapped in her own mind worrying. Now was not the time for asking herself questions like that: now was the time for keeping herself sane.

Everyday Violet told herself it was merely temporary. Things would either be fixed or they wouldn’t, and it was still just temporary.

Most of her free time was spent in the library doing her homework, as a way of avoiding her friends and the rest of Gryffindor house entirely. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard people whispering about her and Harry arguing at the Yule Ball. All it had taken were a few eyewitnesses at the time they’d stormed into the Entrance Hall; things had spread like wildfire since then.

The less she had to hear about  _ “Potter and Merryworth falling out at the Yule Ball” _ the better.

Sometimes during breakfast, Violet had the feeling that someone was looking at her, and every time she tried to confirm that, she’d catch Harry looking away from her pretty quickly. She wondered what on earth was going through his head. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to speak to him, but she really couldn’t bring herself to face him. Not yet. Not when everything still felt fresh to her.

Denying her own feelings about the fact she had the biggest crush on her best friend was stupid, particualrly because he felt the exact same way. Everything she had said to him that night was born out of fear and cowardice, she realised, but it still didn’t mean she  _ had _ to act on her feelings. No, Violet wouldn’t let her heart rule her head like that.

Perhaps she was overthinking it - wouldn’t be the first time - and she was making things worse for herself, for all of them (this seemed like the more likely option). But Violet did what she did best when she was afraid, and she hid as much as she could from her friends outside of lessons. Fear and cowardice and shame all rolled into one to isolate herself, and it was fine - she told herself -  _ it was fine. _

There were a few occasions where Hermione would try and join her in the library; Violet would let her, but soon enough she was finding other places to sit so as not to be found by her or anyone else. That was until, one day, everything got to her - a situation of her own making - and she found herself at a point where she was crying over Defence Against the Dark Arts homework that she was struggling with, for some reason.

She knew why she was struggling. She worked best bouncing off of Harry in that class; it had become such a normal thing for her that she couldn’t hack the idea of going through the work without him that it became a mental block. Violet knew that at the same time she was perfectly capable of doing the work on her own, she just… couldn’t.

Tears silently dripped down onto her homework and ruined it. The ink was all smudged and she resigned herself to rewriting it. Not even the Scouring Charm could save it. Then somehow, that evening managed to get even  _ worse _ than it already was.

“Violet?”

Her eyes widened as she remained focused on her homework. She recognised that voice all too well, and within a few moments she was joined by Cedric.

“Are you alright?” he asked her. She nodded stiffly, which was when he pulled her wet and smudged homework out from under her right elbow. “Then… any reason why you’re crying over… Erklings?”

Violet snatched the parchment back and looked up at him, sniffling as she did so. The fact he seemed concerned made her shrink in her chair as she wiped her eyes.

“Is there anyone I can get for you?” Cedric then asked.

She shook her head.

“Not even Harry?”

“Definitely not Harry,” she sighed.

“Right, of course. D’you mind if I ask what happened?” he carried on, carefully. Cedric must have known he was treading dangerous waters here, but all things considered - Violet relented.

“You must have heard from the rest of the school that Harry and I sort of… fell out. Sort of. It’s complicated.”

“I heard a rumour that you two… kissed?”

She groaned. “I didn’t know that one was going round… but yes, that happened.” Violet started to play with her hair the more she talked. “There’s a lot to it - I said it was complicated, because there’s feelings there when there shouldn’t be, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with that. So I’m just… having time to myself, I suppose.”

He mulled over her words, thoughtful, then leaned forward as he rested his elbows on the table. “Do you think having time on your own was the best option?”

“I - I don’t know. It seemed easier. It  _ is _ easier.”

“Violet, it can’t be that easy if I’ve found you crying. You’re hiding from them.”

“Hiding is easier.”

“But you’re  _ upset. _ And you can’t hide from your own feelings, whatever they are.” Cedric paused. “Look, from what I’ve gathered about you on the few occasions we’ve spoken is that you’re incredibly loyal to Harry. Obviously I’ve seen you around school over the years, and I think you’re brave. You took a leap becoming friends with those three - especially after clearly keeping to yourself for a couple of years. And you know what - it takes some sort of courage to stand up to a sixth year Prefect about one of her friends.”

He smiled that winning Cedric Diggory smile that had girls and boys alike falling for him, all because of the fact he was referencing how she’d acted around him when he told her he thought Harry had cheated.

“Don’t waste any of that over something like this. It was a ball. Emotions running high, and all that,” he added. “I’m guessing this first sort of falling out you’ve had with anyone, with the way you’re acting.”

“I’m wondering if it’s worth it - having friends, if you’re going to fall out with them at some point.”

“Ah, but the fact of the matter is, Violet, you’ll always make up with them. Particularly if you have a strong bond with them - which you and Harry do. That much I saw from the Yule Ball, the way you two were giggling before we walked into the hall.”

A tiny smile appeared on Violet’s face, which satisfied Cedric enough.

“Are sure you shouldn’t be a Ravenclaw?” Violet asked him, finally getting back to her homework.

He chuckled. “Pretty sure I shouldn’t be. I’m surprised you’re not. Anyway, I’m gonna sit here with you, if that’s alright with you? We don’t have to talk, but it looks like you could use the company.”

“Okay,” she said simply.

“And… I’ll cut you a deal.”

She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“If I find you here again, crying, I’ll come sit down. No talking. Just homework or reading. How does that sound?”

“You can do whatever you like, Cedric.”

He was true to his word.

Any time she got lost in her own head to the point that she was crying about things again, and Cedric happened to find her? He’d sit with her. Sometimes they’d talk. Sometimes they wouldn’t. He might help with homework. He might not. One time, all she did was cry about the fact she’d lied to Harry about her own feelings for the boy.

That was the time Cedric was clearly uncertain how to proceed, so he handed her a tissue and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. Somehow, that interaction made her laugh a little.

From that point on, they weren’t exactly friends, but they weren’t exactly acquaintances anymore. Whatever it was, it was nice. Violet was glad for the company, although she couldn’t help but think he felt a little sorry for her.

Either way: he’d let her cry about a boy to him. That was nice of him.

So Violet supposed there was one good thing that came out of all this: she no longer was wary of Cedric Diggory, and in fact now thought he was a rather lovely person.


	38. Moony and Padfoot's Advice

_Dear Uncle Remus,_

_I’m writing this on the basis that I know you won’t tell my parents. So please, please don’t._

_There’s a Hogsmeade trip next weekend. If you’re up for it, it would be nice to see you. I need a bit of help with something, and I feel like you’re the best person for it. Or at least, you’re the adult I feel better talking to about this._

_That’s what the cool uncle is for, right?_

_Violet_

* * *

Naturally, Lupin had been confused and concerned by her letter. Either way, he still agreed to meet Violet in Hogsmeade mid February. She knew it would cheer her up, being able to talk to someone else who might have more experience with dealing matters of the heart; or at least, someone who probably had to deal with falling outs with friends.

In the lead up to the Hogsmeade trip, Violet was still joined in the library by Cedric, along with Cho (who turned out to actually be his girlfriend, she discovered). Being joined by two outsiders to her life meant they could have more of an objective view of it, should she wish to actually speak about being upset.

“I know it’s my fault,” Violet told the pair of them one evening. “Pushing him away - all of them away. They probably won’t want me back - if I go back to them.”

“I think they do,” Cho said. “I overheard Hermione talking about you earlier on today. Harry misses you. She was trying to get him to come to talk to you, but-”

That made Violet drop her quill. “W-what?”

“I was sitting behind them in the Great Hall at lunch today. Heard everything they were saying,” she carried on explaining. “It was a bit weird, actually, Harry going on about how he’d been looking for you, and that if you wanted to talk to him you’d be in the place where he’d be able to find you.” Cho was frowning at that. “No idea what he meant.”

Violet’s heart was hammering away in her chest. “I do. I know exactly what he’s on about.”

_He’d been going to the room to see if she was there._

“Do the school a favour and talk to the boy again,” Cedric piped up. “Sort things out. Stop being stubborn and upset over it. Stop forcing yourself through this on your own.”

Violet resisted rolling her eyes at him. “Luckily, I’m going to an adult for advice this weekend.”

“Oh really?”

“My uncle is coming to meet me in Hogsmeade.”

“You’re asking Lupin?” He quirked an eyebrow at her, a boyish grin sliding onto his face. “Okay yeah, that’s good. About time, I think.”

She said nothing in response to that - she couldn’t quite figure out the secret meaning behind that last statement.

When the weekend for Hogsmeade finally rolled around, Violet found out an interesting piece of information that would change how her trip meeting Lupin would go. She was sitting near her friends - for once, as if trying to suggest she was trying - and overheard them talking quietly about a certain _Padfoot_ who was in a cave just outside the village.

Maybe it was stupid to go to Sirius as well. Maybe it would make both him and Lupin happy. Either way, she eyed her friends as they started sneaking food into their bags and she did the same. Thankfully she was good at being subtle, and was glad that nobody noticed.

The walk to Hogsmeade was brisk and cold, but Violet was thankful for the warmth of the Three Broomsticks when she reached it. Lupin was already inside at a table in the corner, two pints of Butterbeer on the table in front of him. He seemed to light up from his usual tired self on seeing Violet, standing up and enveloping her in a tight hug when she reached him.

“It was strange not seeing you this Christmas,” he admitted when they sat down. “But how was the ball?”

Of course he’d go straight to that topic.

“Um, it was good. To a point,” she muttered in response, before taking a sip of the Butterbeer.

“I expect you went with Harry?” Lupin prompted.

Violet sighed and nodded. He was able to at least read the room when she did that.

“And it didn’t go well which is why you’re here on your own seeing me instead of being with your friends?”

“At first it was fine, but… I’ll tell you later. Mostly because if I tell you later, I can kill two birds with one stone,” she said. Leaning forward, Violet then lowered her voice. “ _Padfoot’s_ here. Harry and that have gone to see him. I can take you there as well.”

Lupin’s jaw went taut, but he nodded all the same. “Only if there’s no chance of us getting caught?”

“I don’t think so. Come on, _Moony,_ you followed us into the Shrieking Shack last year and that was far more risky.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the use of his nickname as he started on his Butterbeer.

It was only when Harry, Hermione, and Ron made their entrance into the Three Broomsticks that Violet and Lupin took their leave. The walk to the cave on the outskirts of the village would have been quicker were it not the fact Lupin was using his cane. Violet slowed herself to his pace, looping her arm through his elbow as they headed up the hills.

When they reached the entrance of the cave, they were met with a dog; which then transformed back into a man who then embraced Lupin much like a brother. He did, however, regard Violet with some wariness, which she completely understood.

“I brought food as well,” she told Sirius, simply, and they headed inside. Buckbeak was sound asleep in a corner, and Violet smiled on seeing the Hippogriff. She tossed her bag to Sirius, as Lupin went to lean against the wall.

“If you’re not talking to the other three, how’d you know I was here?” Sirius then asked her, pulling the bread out of her bag and tearing into it.

“I’ve grown particularly good at eavesdropping over the years.” Violet shrugged. “And Harry isn’t particularly subtle.”

“Not that he didn’t try,” he pointed out. Violet scowled at Sirius, and Lupin spoke up.

“Anybody care to explain?”

“Your niece broke my godson’s heart.”

“That’s not - that’s _not_ what happened!” Violet insisted. “How much did he tell you about the Yule Ball?”

“Everything.”

She winced, turning to Lupin. “So Harry may have kissed me, told me he liked me, and I told him… to not…”

“Because you have a crush on him as well and you don’t want to ruin that friendship?” he offered, his gaze flickering over to Sirius briefly, who immediately softened. “I know the feeling.”

A heavy silence hung in the air, and Violet glanced back and forth between Lupin and Sirius; the latter with growing amusement on his face.

“Penny in the air,” he then said.

“Wait… are you saying that - you two - at school-? Had a thing, or liked each other?” she stammered out.

“And the penny drops,” Lupin concluded.

“And you two are still friends after all this time?”

“Of course! Because we spoke about it,” Sirius said through a mouthful of bread.

Violet nodded, sinking down onto the floor of the cave. “That’s the thing - considering how things went down at Christmas, I don’t know if talking about it will make things better or worse. I mean… I straight up _lied_ to my best friend about having feelings for him. I told him I didn’t when I do, and I have done for _months_ now…” she sighed. “When did this happen for you two?”

Lupin thought about her question for a moment, trying to remember back to when he and Sirius were teenagers. “We must have been in our sixth year. Plenty of built up feelings from over the years of being at Hogwarts together, and one day I finally confessed that perhaps I had feelings for one of my best friends. Obviously - being the egotist that he was - Sirius initially was extremely flattered before confessing the same thing.”

“And after running about in secret for a few months, we called it off. It was much more fun being friends rather than dating in secret,” Sirius said. “Point is, we acknowledged what was there and… put it behind us.”

“It was difficult - feelings still lingered for some time - but it was manageable.”

“Think me being chucked in Azkaban for twelve years definitely helped with putting it behind us properly,” Sirius joked. “Shockingly, it is possible to be friends after all of that.”

“Again, twelve years of not seeing each other probably helped with that.”

“But me and Harry see each other _all the time_ ,” Violet groaned. “And it’s been nearly two months! It’s sort of festered.”

“Only because the _both of you let it,_ ” Sirius reminded her. “Listen, I know you’re a good kid. Harry’s told me a lot about you in his letters. I knew he liked you before _he did._ He needs you just as much as you need him, especially now. He’s scared and he misses you.”

“Out of curiosity, Violet, why did you lie to him?”

“Because _I_ was scared. I’ve not had friends before and I didn’t want to ruin that because of romantic feelings,” she admitted to them.

“In this case, you’re more likely to ruin things by not talking to him, sweet girl,” Lupin told her gently. “Find the courage to talk to him if you can, and I’m sure it’s not too late to do so.”

“But what if it _is_ too late?”

“It’s not,” Sirius said. “Trust me. The pair of you are just being very stubborn, and it seems like it’s taking a lot of people to push you both in the right direction. And it’s apparently not working.”

Violet chewed on her bottom lip, but nodded all the same.

“I suppose it was just far easier to be alone for a while,” she then whispered.

“Easier in some ways, but it probably hurt, didn’t it?” Lupin coaxed, and she nodded again.

“Your friends are worried about you,” Sirius added. “And you’re worried about Harry. It’s time for the pair of you to grow up and fix it. The second task isn’t far off, and he needs you.”

“If you both truly like each other - and saying the word ‘sorry’ is difficult for the time being - then it might be worth learning each other’s love language.”

“What?” Violet was confused.

“For goodness’ sake, Remus, ever the romantic… they’re fourteen!”

“And Violet is particularly precocious when she wants to be,” Lupin reminded his friend. “Do something for Harry to let him know that you’re thinking of him, and he’ll do the same for you. There’s more to it than that, but it’s a start.”

“Right…” the poor girl wasn’t sure how to take that.

“Actually, ignore the term I used entirely and I’ll explain it to you again when you’re a bit older.”

“Nice save…” Sirius rolled his eyes.

Violet was now beginning to feel slightly weirded out by the pair of them. “Remind me why I’m taking advice from two gay men in their early thirties?”

“Firstly, _I_ never said I was gay-” Lupin started, but Sirius cut him off.

“I fall under that bracket, but continue please, Moony.”

“And secondly, it’s because we’ve experienced something very similar. Except of course we had the courage to talk about it,” he carried on. “Find the courage to speak to your friend again. You’re in Gryffindor for a reason, sweet girl.”

As much as she didn’t want to admit it: he and Sirius were right about a lot of things.

Particularly about the point of her being too stubborn to fix things.

Some of that fell into fear, so it was hard to tell the difference, if she was being completely honest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, I do be peppering in the Wolfstar. Just a little bit. As a treat. Unfortunately you have to wait a while before it's uhhh properly established.


	39. A Change of Heart

_ “And Harry?” Cedric called after him before he could completely run off. _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ Cedric looked rather contemplative, as if wondering whether or not he should tell him, but settling on the fact that  _ yes he should tell him.  _ “I know it’s not any of my business-” _

_ “It’s probably not-” _

_ “But,” he carried on. “I have spoken to Violet recently. She’s clearly good at hiding from the people she needs to hide from.” _

_ Harry frowned, now paying a little more attention. “What do you mean?” _

_ “I’ve found her crying in the library on multiple occasions the past few weeks. Sounds like Granger and Weasley don’t really know about that as much as you do. Talk to her. If you can find her. I got lucky there.” _

_ Slowly, Harry nodded in agreement. Satisfied, Cedric walked off, leaving him to mull over exactly how he’d go about making proper conversation with Violet after almost two months of scraps. _

* * *

Harry didn’t need Cedric to tell him that Violet was good at hiding from people that she needed to hide from. That much had been clearly obvious over the past couple of months when he, Hermione, and Ron only ever saw her in lessons or at a distance during meal times. If anything, Cedric’s bit of coaxing finally made Harry want to put the whole thing to rest, especially with the second task coming up. Not to mention the owl he’d received from Sirius after the most recent Hogsmeade visit explaining that Violet had stopped by and explained her side of things; the side of things Harry still didn’t quite understand, but that tipped him over the edge of resolving things somehow.

It wasn’t just so he could get her help, no, it was that he was worried about what might happen in the second task. Any single one of the champions could die during the tasks at any given moment. Harry didn’t particularly feel like potentially walking to his grave knowing that he and Violet were still in the midst of some weird argument.

They didn’t necessarily have to talk about that. They didn’t necessarily have to resolve it. All Harry needed to do was make sure his friend wasn’t upset, because at the end of the day that was all that really mattered. He now realised she had a point about not risking their friendship for romantic feelings, because here he was: wandering through the library instead of heading straight for the Prefect’s bathroom because he noticed she hadn’t been at dinner tonight.

At the end of the day, her friendship really mattered to him. Her feelings mattered to him. So Violet being upset and nobody but pretty boy Cedric knowing about it didn’t sit right with him.

Matters certainly weren’t helped by the fact that when he  _ did _ find Violet, somebody else had gotten there before him. And it wasn’t a friendly face at all.

Dexter Oaks.

Goading her as per usual.

Except there was very little fight in her: Violet was just sitting there ignoring him tease her about the fact she’d supposedly lost all her friends in the space of a couple of months. A rage filled Harry because Dexter was  _ so wrong _ : she hadn’t lost her friends. He was right there. He’d just been a goddamn idiot for two months, that was all. He wasn't going to pull his wand on the sixth year student, but seeing Violet’s bottom lip tremble and a tear drip down her cheek made him change his mind.

“Oi,” Harry said, raising his wand at Dexter, who stood up and mirrored him. “I’d take that back if I were you.”

Violet sighed. “Harry, he’s not worth it.”

“You’re crying. Of course he’s worth it,” he told her. Briefly, Harry could have sworn he saw her smile. “And you said it yourself, you won’t win until he stops. Thought I might try and help you there.”

“Must you always be the hero, Potter?” Dexter spat at him.

“I’m not. Violet’s my friend-”

“Hardly, going by the past two months.”

“What happens between me and Violet is none of your business,” Harry retorted. “Friends need time apart sometimes, but I think that was a mistake. So clear off, Oaks, otherwise I’ll hex you. Do you fancy getting knocked off your feet by another fourteen year old?”

Dexter was clearly infuriated by that remark, but took it as a sign that perhaps he should not pursue another fight in the library. Not for the second year running, and most certainly not whilst he was in his final year.

“You’ll get yours one day, Potter,” were his final words before stalking off.

Once Harry was absolutely certain that Dexter wasn’t going to come back, he made a beeline for the seat next to Violet, who was hastily trying to wipe away her tears.

“You alright?” he asked her.

“I’m fine,” she said, tersely. “You didn’t have to do that. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Cedric mentioned he’d caught you pretty upset, and it seemed like you hadn’t spoken to anybody about it.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Right.”

“We’re all worried about you,” Harry carried on. “We  _ have _ all tried looking for you in here, around the castle - when you disappear. Seems like you’re pretty good at that. And I think I should have known better than thinking you’d go to the room as well, if you were hiding from me. And honestly, I don’t think I’d be talking to you now if Dexter hadn’t been around.”

Violet said nothing, and still didn’t look at him. Harry wasn’t sure what to say next, so he took note of her appearance. The lack of her hair being in a plait. Her slightly trembly hands from the fact she’d missed dinner that evening. All because of what? A few stupid remarks they’d made at each other on the most emotionally fuelled night of the school year?

Considering how she kept her social circle incredibly tiny, Harry could see why the entire thing had the effect on her that it did.

So instead of trying to carry on that conversation, he pulled some of the pieces of parchment she was doing her homework on over in front of him. Luckily for him, it was some Defence Against the Dark Arts homework that he’d already completed. He flicked through what she had written, took her quill right out of her hands and started making copious corrections.

She was definitely struggling in that subject - things were already weird enough for her with Moody apparently being out of sorts in regards to how her mother had described him, and her strained friendship with Harry hadn’t helped.

He slid the parchment sheets back over to her, and handed back the quill. “You’re not getting anything below an E in class just because we’ve not been talking,” Harry told her. “I’m not going anywhere until you get that right.”

Violet started rewriting her homework on a fresh piece of parchment with uncertain fingers, occasionally glancing over at Harry who was watching her intently, leaned back in his chair with his arms folded. When she was done, she pushed the work back over to him. He took the quill once more, and made only a few corrections and additions that time. They repeated the folly one more time until  _ he _ was satisfied with  _ her _ work, in an unusual turn of events.

“Thanks,” Violet said to him quietly, beginning to pack her things away.

“Any time,” he replied, helping her tidy up. “You didn’t have to isolate yourself from us.”

She shrugged. “It seemed easier that way.”

“And you hurt yourself doing that,” he added, keeping hold of the books she tried to take from him and carry. “I wasn’t lying, by the way. I think us two having time apart was a mistake. I wasn’t saying that just to get Dexter off your back.”

“I know you weren’t lying,” she muttered, as they started to make their way out of the library. “I just - I don’t know. I wasn’t ready to face you again, after that night. I didn’t know what my own head was doing so… I did what I do best and I hid from everyone.”

“It doesn’t matter if we’re in an argument or not - don’t ever feel like you have to hide from me, okay?” Harry sighed. “I’ve missed hanging out with you, Violet. I’ve missed  _ you _ .”

“I - I’ve missed you too. It’s been weird.”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely.”

They fell silent for the remainder of the walk back up to Gryffindor Tower. Apparently even the Fat Lady was surprised to see the pair of them talking to each other again; it really did show on her face when they approached her portrait together. The surprise was also reflected by whichever Gryffindors were in the Common Room when they entered; there was a lull in the generic chatter as they all noticed the pair, but it quickly started up again.

“Look… um… we don’t have to talk about…  _ this _ ,” Violet gestured vaguely between the pair of them. “Until we’re both ready to. But… I promised you that I’d always have your back. I’m not about to break that promise now just because I’m still feeling weird.”

“I appreciate that, but-”

“No buts,” she insisted. “Do you still need help figuring out the egg?”

He hadn’t been expecting that. “Yeah, actually, I do. I mean… well, Cedric told me to take it to the Prefect’s Bathroom tonight,” he said in a lower voice. “I guess I can let you know what comes out of that tomorrow, if you want to help?”

She nodded, her face brightening. “Of course. I’d be happy to help. It’s just over a day away now.”

“Yeah, I think I could definitely pick your brains,” he smiled at her.

“I suppose so… um, I’m going to head up to bed. Could I have my books back?”

“Oh! Right. Yeah.”

Harry passed them over, and she muttered a “good night” to him before scurrying up to her dormitory.

He scanned the Common Room, and once his eyes fell on Ron and Hermione over by the fireplace, he headed on over to them, settling himself on the floor.

“You alright, mate?” Ron asked. “You and Vi on good terms again?”

“Sort of. Dexter was giving her trouble in the library when I found her.”

“Bloody git. If neither of you have him, I will.”

“How is she?” Hermione asked, swiftly changing the subject.

“She thought it would be easier being on her own - she was wrong there. Good news is, she wants to help with the egg. I told her I’d let her know what comes out of tonight once I’m done in the Prefect’s Bathroom,” Harry told them.

“That’s good news! How are you feeling about the whole thing?”

“Better than I did before. You know I’ve missed her, Hermione.”

At that, she and Ron looked at each other, clearly trying not to smirk.

“I think the entire school knows that much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of just updating whenever I have something ready, so there's not much of a structure to updates. Which sort of works out for when I get a tad busier with my job over the next couple of months ahhh. Don't worry, I've written far enough ahead to keep y'all well fed.


	40. Building Bridges

At breakfast the next morning, Violet was cautious when approaching Ron and Hermione. Harry was nowhere to be seen for the time being, and because of that she debated turning back. Then she reminded herself she needed to have courage and be brave, so she still approached them.

“Is - is it okay if I join you?” she asked them rather timidly.

“It’s more than okay,” Hermione said, gesturing for Violet to sit down next to her. She did so with some reservation. A stilted atmosphere hung between the three of them for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Violet told the both of them. “For shutting you both out during this. I thought it’d make things easier, but-”

“It’s fine, Violet.”

“It’s fine  _ now _ ,” Ron corrected Hermione from across the table. “Listen mate, you’ve spent more time with Harry than me or Hermione. It took him to explain about what you get like when you’re upset.”

She nodded, staring down at her lap. “Right. Of course. I’m sorry.”

“We already forgave you, Violet,” Hermione said quietly, scowling at Ron briefly. “Ronald is just-”

“Being Ronald,” came Harry’s voice. He looked tired as he settled onto the bench next to the red head. “I was about to say sorry for being late, but decided we didn’t need more apologies for today… besides, last night was… weird.”

That piqued Violet’s curiosity and she looked up. “Weird  _ how _ ?”

Both Ron and Hermione had to resist from smirking, particularly because their two friends were on the brink of slipping back into their form of normalcy.

“Your pal Myrtle apparently haunts the Prefect’s Bathroom from time to time…” The way he said it suggested he was not entirely happy with that prospect, and was in fact creeped out by the very notion. “She told me to put the egg in the water and open it.”

“And?” Hermione prompted.

“It sang a poem.”

Silence. Nobody knew how to react to that.

Ron went back to his cereal and Violet poured herself some water as if that was going to help her digest that piece of information more quickly. Harry was looking around them expectantly, waiting for someone to say something.

“And what did the poem say, Harry?” Hermione sighed, wondering if her friend was being dense this morning or just a little tired.

“ _ Come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground. An hour long you’ll have to look, to recover what we took _ ,” he spouted out. “I got a couple of things from that: I think the second task is in the Black Lake, and there’s mermaids in there.”

“Thing number three: you have to figure out how to stay underwater for an hour,” Violet pointed out to him.

“Specifically to find something,” Hermione added.

“Brilliant,” Harry said sarcastically. “And I have today to figure that out.”

“I suggest we spend today in the library.”

The boys groaned at that, while Violet held back a smile.

“It’ll be fine,” she reassured them. “We’ll figure something out. We - well, you guys - always do, don’t you?”

As much as they admired Violet’s quiet optimism, their day in the library was particularly difficult. They hadn’t been taught anything that would allow them to breathe underwater for an hour, and neither Violet nor Hermione’s more advanced reading had taught them anything about that as of yet. It didn’t matter what aisle they collected books from, it didn’t matter what they read, it was a struggle to find anything particularly useful.

They took a break for lunch, thankful to get out of the library after feeling cooped up for several hours. Even then, they were still brainstorming; or at least, Harry was flinging questions left right and centre at the girls.

“There’s got to be something you two must have read! If Violet’s read about non-verbal spells already and gives me advanced books-”

The girl in question sighed loudly in an effort to cut him, taking her hair out of the long plait it was in and shaking it out. “Congratulations, I’m stressed.”

He blinked. “Was - was that  _ sarcasm _ ? I didn’t realise you could do sarcasm.”

Violet shot him a wry smile. “Watch it, I’m still… feeling weird around you, and I’m sure you feel the same about me.”

“Okay, fine, sure - what was the sigh for?” Harry had to resist rolling his eyes.

“Have you not thought to check those advanced books I’ve so kindly gifted you?” There was a hint of annoyance in her voice. “I know they’re mostly for Defence Against the Dark Arts, but it’s still something worth reading because you don’t know what’s under the lake. Not only do you need to find a way to breathe underwater, you need to have something more than the Summoning Charm at your disposal. Thought Defence Against the Dark Arts was meant to be your speciality?”

He nodded, slowly digesting her words and taking them on board. “Yeah. You’re right. I’ll go get those and bring them to the library after lunch. And I thought Potions was meant to be  _ your _ speciality? Isn’t there a potion or some sort of… ingredient for a potion that might help?”

“That’s a point, we’ve not looked into many potions books today,” Hermione said. “Violet, are there any books you might have at your disposal?”

“I suppose I’ll have to go check my personal collection.” Violet looked to Harry. “While Hermione and Ron head back to the library, shall we head to Gryffindor Tower?”

“Sure,” Harry agreed.

So that’s what they did.

They parted ways with Hermione and Ron at the second floor and continued up and up the staircase - in a strange silence - to Gryffindor Tower to see if any of their own books might be of some use for figuring out a way for Harry to get through the second task.

Violet’s mind was racing with a renewed freshness as she dived through her trunk searching for the appropriate books, giving some each a flick through in the contents pages and indices of each one to see if there was something relevant. By the end of it, she thought three of her books were good enough and so headed back down to the Common Room where Harry was waiting for her with a couple of his books in one arm.

“Thought you’d have more than that.”

“Thought you wanted to pick my brains, not push them away,” she retorted.

“Violet, come on…”

“Save it until  _ after _ we sort you out for tomorrow?” Her voice softened. “We’re not back to normal yet.”

“No, I know we’re not - but you’d laugh at that. Normally,” Harry pointed out to her. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we just… sorted it out now?”

They were lucky the Common Room was empty right now, while people were still having lunch.

“Then it just feels like you’re making up with me because you’re scared about what might happen tomorrow!”

“No - I want us to get back to being like we usually are!” he insisted. “It’s been horrible not seeing you outside of lessons. Not sitting next to you. You’re one of my best friends and it was hard without you for the past couple of months!”

“If it was so hard why didn’t you just find me with the Marauder’s Map?” she asked him.

He sighed. “I knew you weren’t ready to talk. I had a feeling you were scared, and that you thought being alone was going to help you - even though it didn’t. Falling out or not - I’m always gonna… respect you.”

Violet’s breath caught in her throat as she realised Harry had been waiting for her to clear her head and come talk to him, and that he didn’t want to push her into anything she didn’t want to be pushed into. She realised that she’d been far too stubborn for her own good, and that everyone around them had been trying their best to get the pair of them to talk again.

“I was… really awful to you that night, wasn’t I?” she mumbled.

He let out a light laugh, and scratched the back of his head. “Maybe. But so was I. I kissed you without prompt when I should have asked. I asked you a couple of unfair questions. We were both right to be angry with each other.”

“I should have been better with my words when you told me-”

“Don’t dwell on that. It was two months ago now,” he reassured her. “I just want us to be friends again. Like, proper friends again. Where we run and hide in our room when everything gets too much.”

She giggled ever so slightly, which just made Harry grin.

“There we go. That’s the Violet I know. I’m really sorry about ruining the night for you.”

She could just tell him now. She could tell him that she had lied, or she could keep up the pretence until it became relevant again. The latter seemed like the better option, because she didn’t want him to be thinking about that - not when he had more important things ahead of him.

“I’m really sorry for being rude and stubborn,” Violet finally said.

“Friends?”

“Always.”

Violet hadn’t been expecting him to reach out and squeeze her shoulder, but the sudden contact made her drop her books with a little yelp. Immediately she flushed red, making Harry shake his head fondly at her as they crouched down to pick up everything.

One of the books lay open, and she frowned as she skimmed the words on the page.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, picking up the book and standing again. “Harry… I think I have an idea…”

“Care to share?” he asked.

“Yes - well - no, not yet. I have a plan forming.” She shut the book and handed it to Harry, who already had the others in his arms. He didn’t seem too happy about suddenly being weighed down with all of them.

“What’s the plan?”

“Um…” Violet was sheepish. “Remember the last time I said I was going to do something Gryffindor and then I used the Banishing Charm on Snape?”

He faltered. “Oh no…”

“Except this time it’s  _ less _ stupid and more Gryffindor.” She glanced around to make sure they weren’t being eavesdropped on. “I need the Marauders Map and the Invisibility Cloak. I can go grab them from your dorm. You go back to the library with the books and I’ll join you lot as soon as I can.”

There was a worried, pleading look in her eyes as she bit her lip, indicating to Harry that whatever Violet was about to do was potentially stupid, but definitely terrifying. Eventually he nodded, and a rather fake grin was plastered across her face instead.

“Go!” she urged him, pushing him towards the portrait hole. “I’ll be as quick as possible, the rest of you need to keep looking for other solutions in case my plan fails!”

“Violet, what you are-” He was trying to fight her off once they got to the portrait hole, but instead she ended up pulling him into a hug. He relaxed immediately, not knowing that that was what he had so desperately needed for the past two months.

She stepped back. “I owe you this much,” she said, shooing him off before he could say anything.

Once Harry was gone, Violet bolted up to the boy’s dormitory and searched Harry’s trunk for the Map and the Cloak. They were buried at the bottom of the trunk, which made sense to her.

Now that she had everything she needed, Violet made her way out of Gryffindor Tower, heading up to the seventh floor corridor so that nobody would see her put on the Cloak. Once under there, she unfolded the Map and pointed her wand at it.

_ “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good, _ ” she hissed at it. Violet scanned the Map briefly, and with a small smile on her face, made her way to her target destination.

* * *

Harry kept looking in the general direction of the library entrance anxiously. It had been at least two hours and Violet still hadn’t come back.

“What’s taking her so long?” he mused.

“Did she say where she was going?” Hermione prompted.

“Nope. Only asked to borrow the Map and the Cloak,” he told her and Ron quietly. Harry then picked up the book that had fallen open on the floor when she dropped it and came up with whatever stupid plan it was. “Might as well try and see what could have triggered her brain.”

Harry flipped through the book until he came to a page that he vaguely recognised. It was a random potion that didn’t have  _ anything _ to do with breathing underwater. His brow furrowed, and he handed the book to Hermione.

“This is what prompted her?” Hermione raised an eyebrow as she scanned the pages. “What on earth could have-”

“Gillyweed,” Violet’s voice came from behind them as she took off the cloak, handing it back to Harry along with the Cloak. She seemed rather out of breath as she sat down, and her hair was up in a rather messy bun that was held together by her wand. “I went looking for Gillyweed. I completely forgot it existed - it allows people to breath underwater for an hour, give or take.”

“Where did you find Gillyweed?” Ron asked.

“Snape’s store cupboard.”

“Hey Violet… that’s two for two on you saying you’re going to do something Gryffindor and it involves Snape,” Harry told her. Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing despairingly. “What took you so long anyway?”

“He was in the store cupboard when I got there. Had to wait until he left. He doubled back as well, I had to sort of… shift around him. It was very uncomfortable and I think he knew I was there… or he’s going to assume it was Harry.”

“Brilliant.”

“As for the Gillyweed itself…” Violet reached up to the back of her head and pulled out a small vial containing a slimy looking green plant, as well as removing her wand so that her hair fell down. She handed it to Harry, satisfied.

He took it, shaking his head. “I’m not even gonna ask why you kept it your hair, but  _ thank you. _ Really.”

“Suppose that means we have a free evening then!” Ron was pleased about that, beginning to close up books and start stacking them. “You can chill out, mate.”

“Yeah…” Harry was bemused and relieved all at once.

So that was what they did - they packed up everything and decided to relax for the evening. The four friends returned to Gryffindor Tower and had a few rounds of Exploding Snap before the boys opted for some wizard’s chess while Hermione and Violet chatted idly about House Elves, since Hermione was still continuing with that work. Dinner was more of a joy as they knew they didn’t have anything stressful awaiting them once they got back to the Common Room after.

All seemed to be going well until about eleven o’clock - just as they were about to head to bed - when McGonagall came through the portrait hole.

“Miss Granger and Miss Merryworth. I need to speak to you in my office.”

The two girls looked over at the boys, who were packing up the chess set.

“See you two tomorrow?” Hermione said.

“Yeah! We’ll see you in the morning,” Ron replied.

“See you in the morning. Get a good night’s sleep, Harry,” Violet told the boy warmly. She couldn’t help but catch the hint of a smirk on McGonagall’s face, as if their professor was pleased they were walking again.

“I will, don’t you worry. Night Violet, Hermione.”

The two girls followed their teacher out of the Common Room, leaving Harry and Ron wondering what on earth they were needed for at this time of night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's still more Harry and Violet have to talk about! But that'll come in the next chapter.


	41. The Second Task

_ “Where the hell are they?” Harry was nervous, turning and walking backwards to see if he could spot Hermione and Violet on their way down to the Black Lake as well. Even Ron was worried too, but turned his friend round to be walking in the right direction anyway. _

_ “They’ll be here, it’ll be okay.” _

_ Harry squeezed a bit too tight on the Gillyweed in his palm, causing it to squelch horribly. “It’s not like them to be late.” _

_ “Knowing them they’re probably fretting about the Gillyweed and making sure it’s definitely going to work…” _

_ “Not helpful.” _

_ Ron sighed. “Harry. They’re just running late! Probably stayed up longer than expected while nattering with McGonagall…” _

* * *

_ Harry’s heart leapt into his throat when he saw the four bodies suspended among the underwater ruins, realising that this was what the poem meant by “to recover what we took.” He could spy Merpeople swimming around here and there, but that wasn’t the worst of it. _

_ The worst part was when he saw Violet there, next to Hermione. _

_ Dumbledore said about how “something precious” had been taken from them last night. Now that he saw Violet there… Harry wondered how much the headmaster knew, and wondered why it had to have been Violet of all people. _

_ Regardless, he swam on towards her. _

_ He had a time limit to work against. _

* * *

_ There was only one thing for it. While the Grindylows swarmed in a flurry around them, Harry pushed the bodies of Violet and Gabrielle Delacour up towards the surface. _

_ The moment he had let go of him, that was when the Gillyweed’s effects wore off, and he could feel the need for real oxygen growing. He pulled out his wand and immobilised the Grindylows for a moment - just a moment - but it was enough to ward them off as his chest grew tighter and tighter as his need to breathe became overwhelmingly painful. _

_ As he drifted downwards into the weeds of the lake, Harry’s vision was fading as he glanced upwards. There was still a small group of Grindylows near the surface of the water, pulling someone down with them.  _

_ A spell popped into Harry’s mind, and he blearily raised his wand and muttered: _

_ “Ascendio!” _

* * *

When Violet broke the surface of the water, she was surprised to find that she was with Fleur Delacour’s younger sister. She frowned, looking around to see where Harry was; nowhere to be seen, and she realised he was still under the water. Deliberating what to do, she pushed the younger Delacour girl towards the stands, where Fleur herself was waiting in anticipation at the edge to pull her sister out of the water.

Before Violet could even duck her head under to see if she could spot Harry, something - well, several somethings - grabbed hold of her ankle and dragged her under.

She was met with a horde of Grindylows, and the minute she broke the grip of one of them another would just latch onto her. She spotted Harry somewhere further down in the murky depths, drifting even deeper. Squinting as she kept being pulled down, she realised her mistake in hovering about in the water and not getting to the stands as soon as possible.

She struggled, not just against the Grindylows, but for air. She wasn’t sure how far away from the surface she even was at this point, but was thankful for the fact the Grindylows were starting to give up on her and swim away. Her lungs were beginning to scream for oxygen, and before she could even start swimming up, someone had hooked themselves under her elbow and she was flying out of the water and landing on the wooden stands, hard.

Violet coughed and rubbed her eyes to see it was Harry.

Immediately, she pulled him into her arms as he spluttered water all over her in the process. That didn’t matter to her in the slightest. All that mattered was her best friend hadn’t bloody drowned in that lake because he wanted to make sure everyone else was okay first.

He was tense at first when she hugged him, but soon enough he melted against her, clearly grateful for the comfort and support she was giving him. His arms looped around her waist, and all the sounds of the cheering crowd dissolved as the two friends focused on each other, while their other friends were piling towels on top of them.

“I have  _ never _ been so glad for a hug in my life,” Violet murmured to him. “I should have said this yesterday, but-”

“I don’t want to ever fall out with you again,” Harry took the words right out of her mouth, and it made her breathlessly laugh, which led to her coughing again. “Worst two months of my life - and I nearly just died.”

It didn’t matter that they were missing Dumbledore announce the scores and the fact that their friends were trying to yell at them that Harry had achieved second place for his “outstanding moral fibre” - they were flooded with sheer relief that they were well and truly, properly okay with each other again. Try as all the Gryffindors might to peel them away from each other - it was near impossible, as they wanted to take comfort in each other after the ordeal of potentially nearly drowning at the hands of Grindylows.

Eventually the crowd’s shouts died down entirely, with Hermione and Ron finally managing to coax them out of their long embrace so that they could swap out their towels and get back on boats towards the school again and celebrate. Plus, the champions and those they had saved from the lake could do with a change of clothes at the very least.

The four friends happily nattered away as they walked back up to the castle, until slowly but surely Violet quietened down to silence, chewing on the inside of her cheeks.

“Something’s bothering you,” Harry said as they walked across the bridge.

“Hmm? No, there isn’t.”

He nudged her gently. “I know you better than anyone else at this school… so what’s up?” he was being careful in his coaxing. Violet shoved her hands in her pockets and stared down at her feet as they walked, not wanting to give herself away too much.

“I would have thought it would be Ron, that you had to save from the lake,” she said. “Not me. But it  _ was _ me.  _ Why _ was it me?”

He was silent for a moment before answering. “I think you know why.”

Violet sighed. She did know. She knew exactly why it was her, and she knew there were two ways this conversation would go: they were either going to argue about it again, or they were going to accept it and move on. The decision now rested on her shoulders on what direction this topic would go.

“Alright,” she said. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t actually feel the same way as you.”

“Wait -  _ what? _ ”

Violet glanced ahead to Ron and Hermione. “Hey! Guys! We’ll see you in the Common Room?”

The other pair glanced back oddly but thought nothing of it and carried on into the castle. Violet dragged Harry to one of the benches in the Clocktower Courtyard and they sat down.

“Look… I’ve been trying to ignore it because you’re one of my best friends and I don’t - I don’t want to ruin that, but I  _ do _ have a crush on you, and I don’t want to act on it. I  _ won’t _ act on it, if you agree that for now it’s the best option,” she explained. “It’s why I acted the way I did at the Yule Ball, and I’m sorry.”

Harry sat there in silence, trying his best to digest that piece of information as quickly as he possibly could. When the silence became too much for Violet to bear, she carried on talking.

“You know, Remus and Sirius were in a similar situation once. Remus confessed he liked him, Sirius was flattered, and then they dated for a bit… before deciding it was better to stay friends.”

“Wait - they were in a similar situation to us?” That brought Harry out of his thoughts. Violet nodded, and his shoulders sagged as he relaxed. “Wow. But… us two - we’re better as friends, right?”

“Right,” Violet agreed. “We just have to accept that we like each other and won’t act on it. We can get through it.”

“Yeah, as long as neither of us are weird about it.”

“Of course not. Besides, you’re the person I’m  _ most _ comfortable around,” Violet told him with a smile. “Wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

“Neither would I,” he replied, fondly. “Now. Can we head back inside? I’m bloody freezing.”

So they stood up again, and Harry tossed an arm around Violet’s shoulders casually as they finally headed back inside the castle, hurrying along and catching up with Ron and Hermione in the process.

Once they got back to Gryffindor Tower, the celebrations were already well under way, with people swarming to their little group and asking Hermione and Violet how they ended up under the lake in the first place, and asking Harry how he managed to get to them. Ron acted more like a bodyguard at that point, trying to make sure they could all go dry off and change into fresh clothes; which the three of them were glad for.

When they rejoined the rest of the Gryffindors, Violet couldn’t help but notice Ron was a little glum, and wandered over to him.

“You alright?” she asked him.

“Hmm? Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied.

“You wish you had a bit of the attention, didn’t you?”

Ron stared down at her in a contesting way, but sighed. “Is that bad?”

“No. As long as you don’t act like you did before the first task,” she said. “Besides, Hermione rarely gets attention from the rest of the house anyway. Harry hates the attention, and you know that, right?”

He nodded. “How did you end up under the lake anyway?”

“McGonagall put a sleeping charm on us all,” Violet then paused. “You know, it could have been you down there.”

“Really?” He didn’t believe her.

“You’re his best friend. Of course you were an option.”

“So then why you?”

“I think the professors have picked up on the mutual feelings Harry and I have for each other,” she said softly. “Apparently that won out over a brotherly bond, but I suppose we had just spent two months not talking… I expect it was Dumbledore’s choice - and he was probably amusing himself in the process.”

Ron pulled a face. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re probably right, Vi. Dumebledore’s bonkers.”

“I think we all gathered that much when he let Harry participate in the tournament.”


	42. Potter and Merryworth: Reunited

Harry and Violet’s friendship was more solidified than ever after that. In fact, they’d even taken to simply hanging out far more often on their own together without Ron and Hermione sometimes - more so than before. It didn’t really phase the other two; they thought it made sense.

With the knowledge of Harry’s bisexuality and Violet’s heart and eyes hopping from girl to girl in a questioning state of what she knew to be her sexuality, they’d taken to people watching at least once a week and talking about what attracted them to other people. One crisp yet warm spring afternoon at the end of March found them in the Clocktower Courtyard sharing a bar of chocolate and doing just that.

“You know what, we’ve talked enough about Hogwarts students; let’s do the Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs,” Violet said as she leaned back against the wall. She was sitting on a bench while Harry lay on it with his head in her lap. He was flicking through her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework too.

He rolled his eyes when she suggested that. “Fine, but I think it’s pretty obvious what  _ I  _ think…”

“Yes, about the Beauxbaton girls. But not the Durmstrang boys.”

“Not my type,” he said simply.

“Not pretty enough?”

“Something like that.”

“Still crushing on Cedric?”

“Oh god yeah.”

Violet didn’t say anything for a moment. “You said he wasn’t the only one. I’m curious as to whether or not you had a crush on Malfoy at any point? It would make sense, after all. You’re always at each other’s throats...”

Harry groaned and his face turned beet red. He tried to cover that with the parchment he was currently reading from. “I’m not talking about that.”

She snatched her homework back so that she could look Harry in the eye with a raised eyebrow. Other than that there was absolutely no judgment on her face that he could see, so he sighed in a way that suggested he was giving in. “Fine. Once upon a time, I might have had a crush on Malfoy. Not for very long.”

“So your type is skinny and pretty. Got it.”

“Shut up…” he grumbled. “You’re the exact same!”

Violet scowled down at him for a moment. “Are you just going to make jokes about the fact I have a crush on you to make me feel more comfortable about it?”

“I’m your best friend, so yes. I am.”

She snorted. “Just remember that you have a crush on me too, and I do apologise for that.”

Harry sat up straight, laughing. “I guess we both have questionable taste.”

She grinned at him, and they fell quiet, watching various students go by.

“Ever fancied a teacher?” Violet asked.

He blanched. “Er… who hasn’t?”

“Well… that’s a good point.” She saw no reason to argue against it. “I’ve definitely had one on Sinistra. You?”

He was silent for a moment, before murmuring, “I don’t think I should say.”

“It can’t be that bad - unless it was Snape?”

“Oh god no! No, it wasn’t Snape, it was… worse than that.”

“How can it be worse than- oh no.” Violet cringed.

“Yep.”

“Seriously?!”

Harry sighed. “Yes.”

“You - you  _ really _ had a crush on Lupin?”

“Even  _ after _ finding out he was part of your family. Not anymore though! That went away when he showed up on my birthday…”

Violet shook her head and laughed - that was all she could do, really. She could sort of understand where Harry was coming from, particularly because she knew how nice and genuine Lupin was, so any student could have fallen for him in terms of having a crush on a teacher. It was probably one of the few that made sense.

A lot of their time passed like that - effectively trying to make up for lost time and conversations in the past two months they hadn’t spoken to each other. Plenty of idle chit chat and strangely intimate conversations and ways of being around each other - particularly in the way Harry had been resting his head on Violet’s lap. Whatever that was about, it seemed relatively normal.

“Seems like things are back to normal again,” Hermione said one evening she and Violet were in the library together a few days after that. “You and Harry wandering off far too much… unless there’s something Ron and I have missed?”

“What? No! No, you’ve not missed anything…” Violet toyed with her quill for a moment, pausing in whatever she was writing. “I failed to mention that me and Harry spoke about it. Our feelings for each other… and have decided that it’s for the best if we don’t date or anything. It’s easier that way. We have a way of being around one another that we’d rather not ruin…”

“Oh! Oh, I see…” Hermione replied.

The silence between them was a little awkward. “Um, what about you and Viktor?” Violet asked her.

“Not much going on there. We did kiss once though… but he mostly watches me study when you’re not around. It’s sweet, but I did tell Harry it was a bit annoying, actually.”

Violet laughed, resuming her writing. “I can imagine. You don’t like to be distracted.”

“Hmm, definitely not. It’s why I like coming here with you without the boys - much quieter, and much easier to get the work done.”

“Yeah…” Violet’s mind drifted elsewhere for a few seconds as she suddenly stared down at her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework, suddenly bemused at what she was even writing. As if it made no sense to her again. She’d been fine -  _ fine _ \- this evening, going through that particular subject’s homework without Harry’s help. Now the more she thought about it, the more she wished he was there in the library with them.

“Are you alright?” Hermione’s voice made her jump.

“I’m fine. I think. I don’t know. Have I made a mistake by not… being his girlfriend?”

“No, you’ve not made a mistake, but… why do you think that? What’s your head telling you? What’s your  _ heart _ telling you?” she asked gently.

“My head’s telling me I’ve done the right thing, but my heart is conflicted… telling me I should have been brave and gone for it; at the same time, it’s saying that I’m doing the right thing because friendship is more important.” Violet paused. “I hate being so conflicted. I hate that there’s two parts of me - the Ravenclaw side battling with the Gryffindor side - and it’s making things more difficult than they need to be.”

“Head versus the heart, I see - I wouldn’t necessarily put the founders’ names to it-”

“It’s something my mum does,” Violet interrupted quickly. “She came from a Slytherin family and was sorted into Ravenclaw - an anomaly. Like how I came from a Ravenclaw family, sorted into Gryffindor all because I wanted to prove I was more than what my head was telling me. So maybe I should have gone for it. Maybe I still could if the feelings don’t fade - but that’s a problem for future Violet.”

Hermione was giving her a knowing look. “I think you’ve got your answer. It’s something for you to decide on later down the line. Just make sure Harry still feels the same way too when -  _ if _ \- it happens. Although I doubt that wouldn’t fade for him.”

“Unless he suddenly takes an interest in Ginny,” Violet said with a shrug. “Boys can be far too oblivious sometimes, can’t they?”

“Wow - I wasn’t expecting you to say that. It is a possibility he could, if she’s still interested in him. It’s dangerous to hope.”

“Never dangerous. Only foolish.”

That was one way to end a conversation, if anything. Violet was hardly one to hope, especially not after how long it took for Harry to ask her to Yule Ball.

The good news was that Violet felt normal again, which was the most important thing. She was sitting with Harry in Defence Against the Dark Arts again, the odd study session with Hermione in the library wasn’t so bad, and Ron had taken to teaching her about Quidditch (which Violet had initially protested against, until the history of the game had enticed her in).

“Wait - so - they used a  _ bird _ ? A  _ tiny, magical bird _ ? Before the Snitch was invented?” Violet was rubbing her temples. It was almost midnight on a Friday, with her, Harry, Ron, and the Weasley twins being some of the last few people in Gryffindor Tower still awake. What had initially started out as a casual means of Ron trying to get her more interested in Quidditch had turned into him doing extra research to actually teach Violet because of her deep interest in knowing the history before the actual game itself. Harry and the Weasley twins had been listening in, highly amused the dynamic the two had entered into this particular evening.

“Yeah. It was normal back then, I guess,” Ron shrugged, trying his best not to laugh at Violet’s absolute disbelief. “They stopped using it in the late thirteen hundreds when it became a protected creature.”

“Too right! Poor little things…”

“Did your dad never tell you about this?”

She shook her head. “No, he was more interested about getting me on the broom and teaching me that way. Which, I suppose is a good idea, but it was so… forced I had to feign interest. Besides, knowing the history of things is fun.”

“Right…” Ron seemed uncertain about that last part. “Look, just read  _ Quidditch: Through the Ages _ if you want the history, I’d rather tell you about the actual  _ game _ and  _ rules.  _ Think I’m gonna go to bed now, Vi, thanks for the help with Charms - we can talk about the game tomorrow! Night everyone.”

He stood up and ruffled her hair before heading up to his dormitory.

“It doesn’t matter if it takes one Weasley or all of them-” George started off.

“We’ll get you into Quidditch in  _ no time, _ ” Fred finished off with a wink.

Harry was trying not to laugh at the look on Violet’s face as the twins left them with those words.

“Oh - stop it,” she batted at Harry’s arm, going pink in the cheeks as she gathered up her loose bits of parchment and books from earlier homework.

“They’re not wrong you know,” he pointed out to her. “Give it time, and you’ll be zooming around the Quidditch pitch in no time, making your dad proud.”

“Right.” Her tone was slightly stiff, and Harry frowned.

“What’s up?”

“That just makes it seem like my dad would only be proud of me if I  _ finally _ got into Quidditch,” she murmured. “As if nothing else I do really matters. I know you all mean well with it - he means well with it too, but…”

“No - no, I think I get it,” Harry said, shuffling closer to her on the sofa. “I’m sure he’s proud of you regardless - Quidditch or not. And he didn’t seem like the type to not be proud of you.”

Her lips twitched upwards into a half smile. “Thanks. It would be nice if he acted that way sometimes. He’s always disappointed in finding out I’ve not decided to try with Quidditch every year...” She fell quiet again as her mind drifted to those letters from her parents for a moment, before she shook herself out of it and gathered her things into her arms. “Sorry! You probably don’t want to hear me complaining about my dad when you… Good night, Harry.”

Violet rose from the sofa, and when it clicked in Harry’s head what’d she’d been implying with her half finished sentence, he grabbed her by the crook of her elbow. She turned and looked up at him, her eyes going wide and watery; it was that what made Harry realise the topic of Quidditch and her dad’s expectations for it was truly a sore spot for Violet.

“Complain all you like,” he said softly. “It doesn’t bother me -  _ really. _ You’re pretty great, Quidditch or not. And one day your dad will see that.”

She gave him a curt nod, a tear slipping down her cheek. Harry wiped it away pretty quickly with the pad of his thumb, his hand stopping to linger on her cheek ever so slightly. She leaned into it, her tiny sigh indicating relief as her eyelids closed for a moment. His fingers tensed for a moment, and Violet opened her eyes again to finally notice that the gap between them was smaller than she initially thought.

“Violet…” Harry whispered.

“You’re always in my head,” she said, just as quietly.

“You too.”

“If you kissed me right now I wouldn’t be annoyed.”

He blinked a few times, not expecting her to say that.

“I - good. Brilliant,” he replied. He closed the gap and gently pressed his lips to hers; much different to the way it had happened at the Yule Ball, the pair of them thankful that they were entirely alone in the Common Room. Something behind it felt awkward and right all at the same time, but maybe kisses for people at their age were just like that. It didn’t last too long either, but it was still comforting all the same.

Harry’s hand dropped to his side when they broke apart.

“What are we doing?” he asked, out of curiosity more than anything.

“Trying to see what our hearts want,” she replied. “That’s okay, right?”

“Yeah… yeah, I know we - we said about staying friends but… kissing’s fine, isn’t it?”

“Maybe? I have no idea how anything beyond friendship is meant to work,” she admitted.

“You know what? Me neither,” he said, a slight smile on his face.

“At least we’re both as clueless as each other on this. Is that good or bad?”

“Probably both,” he awkwardly scratched the back of his head after saying that. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

“I’m good.”

“Good.”

Silence, as they tried to fully digest what had just happened.

“Let’s not do that again until we know for certain what we both want?” Violet suggested, and she’d never seen Harry look so relieved about something in his life. “Otherwise we’ll just be going around in circles. So: we have feelings for each other, yes, but we’re staying really good friends, and… hopefully once the tournament’s over we’ll figure out what to do then?”

Harry had been nodding along enthusiastically with everything she was saying. “Agreed. This is probably the best plan we’ve - you’ve - come up with. Something Gryffindor.”

“Something Gryffindor,” she repeated, grinning at him, all awkwardness evaporating from the room.

“Okay. Great. Cool. How do we talk to each other tomorrow morning?”

Violet considered the question for a moment. “Like the kiss never happened?”

“Like the kiss never happened. Got it. I’m for that.” There was a lull. “Uh, do you - do you need help taking anything up to your dormitory?”

“Boys can’t come into the girls dormitory…”

“Right! Yeah, of course… forgot about that…” he mumbled.

Violet cleared her throat. “Well… good night, Harry. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”

“Night Violet… see you in the morning,” he replied, watching as she headed off upstairs.

That had certainly gone beyond their usual intimate conversations and ways of being around each other, that was for sure, but true to their word: the next day at breakfast it was like nothing had happened. They remained their normal selves, nothing to indicate that they’d kissed yet again, thankfully. Perhaps it was because they had managed to talk about it, and that made Violet realise that Lupin and Sirius had been right all along.

Eventually that one kiss in the Common Room became nothing more than a sweet memory to the pair of them as the rest of the school year went on, except they were unaware it had completely laid out the foundations for something else entirely that neither of them had room to think about for the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Varry content? This chapter started out one way and ended another, I guess. Hope it was still enjoyable! Apologies for not updating sooner, I had this ready but I've been sorting out other creative projects on top of working so fanfic wasn't at the forefront of my mind, ahhhh. We have 5 chapters left of 4th year, though! I'm very excited to get into the summer before 5th year... it's juicy.


	43. Bad Dreams

Things appeared to be fine; no really, they were.

Lessons as normal. Friendships as normal.

Until the evening that Harry was called down to the Quidditch pitch to see what the third task was going to be about. He came back into the Common Room later than the rest of them thought, in a bit of a panic and that Barty Crouch Senior had been wandering around the grounds completely mad, not making sense, and he’d quite possibly hexed Viktor Krum before disappearing.

They had all gotten changed into their pyjamas, discussing the various possibilities of what could have happened and where Crouch could have possibly gone.

“Did he have a reason to hex Krum?” Violet asked. She was curled up in one corner of the sofa, her head resting next to Harry’s thigh. It was coming up to two o’clock in the morning and they’d been theorising for a good couple of hours now.

He shrugged. “Not that I know of.”

“Mr Crouch really shouldn’t have any motive for hexing Viktor,” Hermione said from the armchair. “He’s part of the  _ Ministry, _ he shouldn’t have a vendetta against anyone!”

“Well… technically speaking it doesn’t matter where you work, you could still have a vendetta against someone…” Violet pointed out, yawning as she did so. “But, it doesn’t mean you should act on it.”

“Krum’s a student as well. There’s no way Crouch could have had it in for him and done a runner,” Harry added.

“Anyway, before all of this happened - what did you find out about the final task, Harry?” Violet asked, thinking that a change in topic was much needed. Clearly it was welcome, because there was a sigh of relief from Ron, down on the floor in front of the fireplace.

After getting over the initial whiplash, Harry answered her, “it’s a maze. They’re basically growing it out over the Quidditch pitch, and Bagman promised the pitch’ll be back to normal once the tournament is done.”

“And Quidditch resumes for fifth year…” mumbled Violet. “Any idea what’s going to be in the maze?”

“Hagrid’s providing a bunch of magical creatures…” Harry grumbled. “And there’s other obstacles too.”

“Charming. So it’s a dangerous obstacle course…” Ron said.

“Yeah. I’m gonna need more help than the dragon beforehand, I think,” he replied, eyeing Violet next to him. She was clearly starting to drift off to sleep. A quick glance at Hermione told him his other friend was doing the same. Only he and Ron seemed wired enough and awake for this right now. “You know what? Let’s talk this over in the morning. Might send a letter to Padfoot as well… meet back down here just after dawn.”

Violet jumped at the sound of his voice, before standing up and stretching. She then gestured to Hermione who stood up with a yawn, and the girls made their way up to their dormitory, the boys near enough at their feet until they all had to part ways.

True to their word, they all met at dawn down in the Common Room with puffy eyes and still far too asleep to even consider going down to the Owlery. Considering today was a school day, they’d all dressed in their uniforms and robes. Violet came to the conclusion that this had been the worst night’s sleep she’d had in a while, and was considering the idea of using History of Magic first thing as a good hour to nap.

Could have easily done it before breakfast, but knowing them - they’d probably head straight to the Great Hall after this.

One thing that did perk Violet - and the rest of them - up was the arrival of Fred and George in the Owlery talking about blackmail. Harry had long since sent his letter to Sirius, and the four of them hastily left to leave the twins to their own business before an argument could occur between them and Ron.

“Who d’you reckon they’re blackmailing?” he asked once completely out of earshot.

“They could get into some serious trouble…” Hermione fretted.

“I suppose I could lend my usual listening ear and observant eye to find out…” Violet said. “I’m just as interested as well. She rubbed her temples. “They’ve been up to dodgy stuff all year.”

“I mean, they are pretty serious about opening a joke shop… they just don’t have the funds for it,” Ron said.

“And they’d go so far as to break the law for it? With blackmail?” Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged. “Who knows? They’ve been obsessed with the money aspect of things for a while… that much I figured out when I was hanging out with them when… yeah.”

“When you and I fell out,” Harry filled in the gap. “Makes sense you found out that much then.”

Violet scratched behind her ear. “I mean… going off of that - it’s obvious, isn’t it? They’re blackmailing someone for the money. Clearly they were  _ owed _ the money from someone and it’s not been paid up.”

“But blackmail?”

She shrugged. “Desperate measures. I reckon I can find out the  _ who _ and  _ why _ .”

“How?”

“You heard her, Harry - a listening ear and an observant eye,” Hermione laughed. “If you can’t find out by the end of the school year, I’ll be surprised.”

“If I can’t find out by the end of the school year, it’s because I’ve had more important things on my mind,” Violet said. “For example, like making sure Harry actually goes into the third task fully prepared.”

“Brilliant. I was hoping I could go a day without thinking about it,” he replied.

The four of them laughed and carried on towards the Great Hall, where they found themselves having a more leisurely breakfast for once, albeit still very tired.

Violet was true to herself and used the History of Magic lesson to sleep, asking Hermione to let her know what chapters she had to read later on. Or reread. She wasn’t functioning well enough to think about whether or not she’d read ahead. Chances were that she probably had.

The day drifted on by nicely after that; she was paying attention again, not thinking too hard about what had happened with Mr Crouch nor about Fred and George’s blackmailing scheme. Then it got to Divination in the afternoon. That gave her cause for concern due to the fact that it was so warm in the classroom, Harry either fell asleep or fainted - he was on the floor either way. She couldn’t quite tell - until he started clutching at his scar in his unconscious state.

She and Ron immediately tried to wake him up, and thankfully they were successful within a minute or so.

The whole class had gathered to stare at Harry, and Trelawney was trying to get him to share what had happened. He wasn’t particularly enthused by that, and left for the Hospital Wing.

“I wish she’d calm down,” Violet murmured to Ron once everyone had settled back down. “I should have taken Arithmancy…”

“Why  _ did _ you take Divination?” he queried in a hushed tone. They’d both shunted their textbooks to the side, very aware of the fact that Trelawney wasn’t going to be bothering them again any time soon.

“I needed a cop out subject of some kind. It could have been Arithmancy, but… well, I actually have to use my brain for that.”

“What d’you need a cop out subject for?”

“Neither Arithmancy or Divination are required to become a Healer,” she told him. “Meanwhile something like Care of Magical Creatures is somewhat beneficial, but I expect I’ll be dropping it after fifth year anyway.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve  _ really _ got it all planned out, haven’t you?”

She shrugged. “Might as well. I’ve always liked the idea of being a Healer.”

“You could be an Auror with the way you think. Both you and Hermione.”

“The Auror life isn’t one for me, I’m afraid.”

“How’s your mum doing?”

“She’s alright. The trail on the Oaks’ ran cold a while ago,” Violet sighed. “I expect Willmott’s one of  _ them _ now.”

“A - a  _ Death Eater? _ ” Ron’s eyebrows shot into his hairline, and he shuffled closer to Violet. “He’s what? Eighteen? Would they  _ really _ make him one that young?”

“I don’t know… probably? I never spoke to him, so the only way for me to find out is if mum knew anything… which she probably does, but it’s not something you’d want to put into a letter, is it?”

“No… no, you’re right on that one…” Ron sighed. “I hope Harry’s alright.”

“Me too. I expect he’ll tell us what happened before dinner.”

Violet was correct about that.

When she and Ron returned to the Common Room after Divination, Harry was anxiously waiting for them. Hermione returned not long after, and Harry launched into a long tale about what had happened to him that afternoon. He’d gone to see Dumbledore about his dream and ended up learning more about past Death Eaters; that part piqued Violet’s interest.

“Snape was a Death Eater… but not anymore?” she murmured in question, more to herself than anyone else. She raised her voice again to address the three of them. “When Harry and I were outside - at the Yule Ball - we had to hide from Snape and Karkaroff. Karkaroff asked Snape to show him his arm… it got me thinking about whether or not Snape had the mark… I asked my mum about it in a letter but she dodged the question in her response.”

“And Dumbledore trusts Snape now?” Hermione asked Harry.

“Apparently so,” he sighed in response. “Dunno why…”

“Bloody git,” Ron said.

“And the dream?” Violet prompted. “It was different to the one you had over the summer, wasn’t it?”

Harry nodded. “My scar hurt more than last time - I think he’s getting stronger.”

“How can Voldemort be getting stronger?” she frowned, resting her chin on her fist. When met with silence, Violet glanced between her friends, who were staring at her rather shocked. “What?”

“Didn’t think you would say his name,” Harry said. “But I dunno how he could be getting stronger.”

“Maybe it’s to do with the Death Eaters?” Ron threw the idea out there.

“Not a good indicator of physical or mental strength,” Hermione remarked. “You should write to Sirius again once he gets back to you about what happened last night. He’ll want to know.”

“Dumbledore will get there first - he’s been keeping in touch with Sirius…” Harry seemed put out by the prospect of that. “I’ll hear from him about it in his next letter. For now, I just want to go have dinner...”

So they carried on their evening as normally as possibly after that.

Matters weren’t helped by the fact that in the dead of night, Violet woke up and struggled to get back to sleep, her mind racing about everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours. She decided that she’d stretch her legs around the Common Room for a little bit and then try sleeping again. It was about three o’clock in the morning when she headed down there, only to be surprised by Harry sitting by the fire; sweaty, and shaky.

“Hey,” she called over to him softly, before going to join him on the floor. “You okay?”

“Same dream from earlier on,” he replied, pulling up his knees to hug them. “I’ll be fine. What are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t get back to sleep. Past day or so has been a lot to take in.” Violet shrugged, trying to play it off more casually.

“Fair enough…” He appeared to be calming down now that he had some company. “Ron said you guys were talking about your family.”

“Hmm… topical,” Violet said with a half smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Willmott was a Death Eater now. It’s all quite integral to that side of the family. You know, there’s a part of me that hopes he’ll one day regret it and that mark will be a reminder of every mistake he made.”

“Why? Not about the reminder part - but why do you want him to regret it, if that is the case and he  _ is _ a Death Eater?”

“Because then he’ll finally see the pain he put me through - he’ll see the pain his parents put mum through.” Violet was twirling her hair around her fingers. She was a little uncomfortable, talking about this, but she kept going. “Empathy can go a long way, but he was near enough indoctrinated into pureblood ideals since birth.”

“Right. You reckon it would be a good thing if he broke out from that?”

“Definitely. Not all Slytherins are bad. As far as I know, mum’s family were all proud of her for being a Ravenclaw, but I think that was to do with the fact they were happy that they could finally show for being clever - because all of them  _ were _ clever. But then…”

“She married a Muggleborn. Yeah. I expect that’s when the pureblood ideals  _ really _ kicked in for her siblings and parents… how did your mum end up so different?”

She paused for a moment before answering, and realised why he kept asking her questions.

“She unlearned the ideals There weren’t that many half bloods or Muggleborns in Slytherin during her time at Hogwarts anyway… but because Ravenclaw had plenty, and she’d always been dubious about what her parents had taught her, it was easier for her to veer away.”

Harry was listening to her with rapt attention now, completely relaxed, distracted from his dream.

“And then she became friends with Lupin. That definitely helped,” Violet carried on, her tone more bright.

“Do you think she’d have unlearned them even if she had been sorted into Slytherin, then?”

Violet nodded. “I think so. Like I said - she’d always been dubious anyway. She’d have latched onto the few half bloods and Muggleborns in that house. So one day, I hope Willmott will do the same - unlearn, eventually regret. It’s just a bit late for him.”

“And Dexter?”

“There’s more hope for him, considering he’s a Ravenclaw. But you still get the stuck up ones anyway in that house… I’ve learned there’s good people and bad people in every house. The core traits don’t necessarily define you, but sometimes they do.”

“Yeah… that makes sense.”

They fell quiet again, watching the fire slowly die down. Eventually Harry shuffled a bit closer to Violet and rested his head on her shoulder.

“Thanks, by the way,” he muttered.

Violet looked at him. “You’re welcome. I guess I should thank you, too.”

“Why?”

“Well… this is something I keep bottled up. It’s nice to tell someone about it, even if it’s so they can calm down from bad dreams.”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckled. “It’s interesting to know though.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

They sat in silence for the next fifteen minutes before going back to bed again, in slightly better spirits this time around.


	44. Something Normal, For Once

The four friends spent a lot of their lunch times finding empty classrooms and going over spells that would be useful for Harry once the third task finally rolled around towards the end of June. Even Sirius’ reply to Harry insisted that the boy really focus on training, and to try and keep his head down as much as possible, especially after the incident with Crouch. On top of that, Harry and Violet would spend a couple of nights a week sneaking off to the room and doing some extra practice there.

Usually it wasn’t noticeable if they did that, until one night they stayed there a bit too late and showed up to breakfast the next day rather dishevelled.

“What on  _ earth,  _ you two?!” Hermione hissed at them from across the table. “We’ve only got ten minutes until Herbology!” She tossed Violet a spare hairband, and the girl quickly pulled her messy hair up into a relatively neat bun, before getting herself a slice of toast.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down as it was sticking out more than usual, and then sighed. “We stayed up late talking,” he said. It wasn’t entirely a lie - after their usual practice in the room, they had remained there for far too long having general chit chat and finishing off some homework too.

“Only had about two, maybe three hours sleep. Got McGonagall’s essay done in that time as well,” Violet added.

“You two are mental sometimes,” Ron said. “Trying to make up for the lost two months?”

Harry snorted. “Probably. Although we don’t really need to.”

Violet shrugged. “Doesn’t matter either way.”

“Shall we skip lunchtime practice today?” Hermione suggested. “You both look awfully tired… I can use the time to read through a few more books!”

“To be fair, I can probably help with that,” Violet told her, and then yawned. “Or not. How am I going to get through today?” she whined. “We’ve got Potions after lunch, I don’t want the heat of about twenty cauldrons in the class sending me to sleep in front of Snape!”

“You should have thought about that before staying up so late.”

“It wasn’t intentional, trust me. Time got away from us.”

Regardless, the morning was clearly a struggle for both Harry and Violet. She had a tendency to keep nudging him awake throughout Herbology, surprised that she managed to stay awake. The morning ended up being the easier part of the day to get through. Violet had no idea how lunchtime went for Harry, but whilst in the library with Hermione, something interesting happened.

As tired as she was, she did try to help Hermione in an effort to find more useful spells for Harry, but then her eavesdropping ears picked up on a conversation that she became  _ more _ interested in.

“...Slimy bastard,” the unmistakable voice of George Weasley drifted over to her through the nearby bookshelf. Hermione wasn’t paying any attention, but did find it curious when Violet stood up in an effort to get closer.

“I can’t  _ believe _ it didn’t work! You’d think anyone would give into blackmail…” Fred replied.

Violet wandered around the corner of the shelf casually, trying to look as tired as possible whilst pretending to search for another book. A quick glance towards the Weasley twins showed they hadn’t noticed her presence. She pulled a random book off the shelf in front of her and started to flick through the pages.

“We’ve gotta get him - before the Tournament is up, otherwise we’re not gonna get another chance!”

“Nah, we can still try after then.”

“Too risky. He can get us done in,” George paused for a moment. “Or maybe not. Bagman talks a load of bollocks sometimes-”

Violet’s eyes widened and she let out a tiny squeak at the mention of Bagman. That stopped George in his tracks, and she cautiously looked towards them to see they were both staring at her, equally as shocked. Then the twins looked at each other, and started heading towards Violet at top speed, hooking her under the shoulders and frog marching her off deeper into the library where they  _ definitely _ wouldn’t be overhead by anyone.

She tried kicking at them, but realised it was futile soon enough and so let herself be carried away by them. Eventually they set her down on her own two feet again.

“You’re blackmailing Ludo Bagman?!” she hissed at them, worried.

“And we’d love it if you didn’t go around telling people that, Vi,” Fred told her. “What were you doing listening anyway?!”

“I er… well after what happened a couple of weeks back in the Owlery, I said I’d probably be able to find out what you were up to…” she admitted.

“So you were just… waiting for us?” George asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No! No, I heard you talking. Hermione and I were sitting around the corner from you two. She’s concentrating a bit too hard to notice. Anyway, what are you doing blackmailing Ludo Bagman?”

“The reason is for us to know-” George started.

“And for you to never find out,” Fred finished.

“Sorry, Vi, but until this whole debacle is over, we can’t say much else.”

“Just keep your mouth shut and we won’t have a problem.”

Her eyes narrowed Fred’s phrasing, and he quickly backtracked.

“Okay, please don’t tell anyone?”

“You had my word I won’t,” she said, sticking out her hand for each of them to shake; which they gladly did in turn. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I should get back to Hermione… and return this book to its rightful place.”

After that, Violet scurried off back to where she’d encountered Fred and George, popping the book back on the shelf where she’d received it. Then she joined Hermione again, who appeared to be curious about her long absence.

“Where did you head off to?” Hermione asked, suspicious.

“Long story,” Violet said, yawning and stretching, but pulling one of her other books towards her. “And I’m bound to secrecy about it. I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough…”

“Hmm…”

Even though reading started making her feel more sleepy, Violet persisted with Hermione and the pair of them came up with a few good ideas to further help Harry before heading on down to Potions. She spent most of that lesson (along with Ron) kicking Harry in the shin so he didn’t fall asleep entirely and get into trouble with Snape.

How they got away with it, they would never know.

At least the rest of the afternoon was alright after that. Charms with Flitwick was some sort of welcome relief after Potions.

The evening the four friends spent doing homework, with Harry and Violet going to bed for an early night; they promised each other not to be that foolish again. Training and practice resumed as normal from that point on, including the extra sneaky visits to the room - only, not as ridiculously late.

For all intents and purposes, it was beginning to lead into what could be a relatively normal summer time at Hogwarts and then some. As the days started to get warmer, the friends started to spend more time out on the grounds by the lake, more often than not removing their cloaks and jumpers and rolling up their shirt sleeves so they could enjoy the sun during lunchtimes and after school before dinner.

There was one afternoon in early June where the four of them were down by the lake, completely forgoing homework, books, and practice - all so they could relax properly. It was much needed after an intense week. Violet had opted for taking off her shoes and socks, going to go dip her feet in the cool water of the lake. Hermione joined her, but didn’t dip her feet in.

“Come on, Hermione, the water’s nice!” Violet was urging her friend to do the same.

She seemed unsure. “Oh - but I don’t really want to dry my feet on my robes.”

Violet shrugged. “I think you of all people deserve to let loose a little and relax. Come on. You’re the backbone of our group, honestly.”

That was convincing enough, and Hermione removed her shoes and socks too. Once she was swirling her feet around in the cool water, she appeared more content, and leaned back on her elbows like Violet had done.

“You’re right - this is nice,” she said with a smile. “It’s nice to see  _ you _ relax too. And be more chatty.”

“I have good friends that appreciate my input,” Violet replied with a laugh. “Maybe I was saving all my words for that.”

“Maybe. Or you're saving them for something else.”

“What do you mean?”

Hermione angled herself more towards Violet. The way she was looking at her was almost curious. “I don’t mean this in the wrong way - but you are still quiet around a lot of people. Like you’re still waiting for the right moment to fully open up.”

Violet chewed on the bottom of her lip as well as Hermione’s words, and realised there was some sort of truth in that. “I suppose so. I don’t know what sort of moment I’m waiting for. Either way - I’m good for now. I have people I’m happy and comfortable around, people I’m not comfortable around, and people that… well, people that I’m strangely close to.”

“Very picky,” Hermione smirked, and Violet kicked a bit of water up at her. Giggling, she retaliated and for a few moments they just kept splashing water at each other until their uniforms were getting a little bit too wet for their liking.

“Told you they were mental, Harry,” Ron’s voice drifted over to them. They looked back over their shoulders to see the boys were very much finding their current interaction hilarious. The girls then ended up heading back over to them.

“According to Violet, I’m the backbone of our group,” Hermione said quite happily as they sat back down with the boys. “Although with the amount she hangs out with Harry, I’d say she’s on equal ground here.”

“Agreed,” Harry said. “I feel like I wouldn’t have gotten through that time before the first task without you.”

“Thanks,” Violet said sheepishly, her gaze flickering to Ron who looked uncomfortable, but grateful all the same. “Honestly I don’t think I would have found the courage to stand up to Malfoy or Dexter without the three of you. I feel a lot braver with all of you.”

“Think you would have got there without us anyway - in the end,” Ron said, throwing her a wink. Violet rolled her eyes but chuckled along with the rest of them anyway.

Eventually they calmed down and fell silent, watching the waters of the lake drift along; watching the giant squid occasionally break the surface of the water in an effort to bask in the heat of the sun. For once the four friends were truly content; Violet hooked her elbow with Harry’s and rested her head on his shoulder, Hermione properly lay back on the grass, closing her eyes in a moment of rest, and Ron merely surveyed his friends, happy they finally had a more quiet moment.

With the spirits lifted by about six o’clock, they all walked back up to the castle, a little dazed from the heat, but happily murmuring away to each other about nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add a bit of humour/fluff before everything uh... goes downhill for a bit? (Yes, the third task is next...)


	45. The Third Task

A couple of hours before he had to go down for the third task, Violet pulled Harry aside in the Common Room.

“So… this might seem a little weird…” she started off, her cheeks growing red in colour. “But I have something for you. And I want you to keep it on you this evening.”

He was bemused, but nodded all the same. “O… kay?”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny violet flower, not dissimilar to the ones she had left him in the Hospital Wing the previous year, and handed it to her friend. It was still in perfect condition, even though she’d clearly had it on her for a while.

“Lupin does this funny thing on my birthday - he’ll always send a single violet and nothing else. I never really appreciated it until more recently, but… consider it a token of good luck,” Violet explained, a little embarrassed. “And - um - well, I thought you’d want all the support you could get for this - so I invited him and Sirius along. They were the closest people to your parents, so I thought-”

“Thank you,” he said, cutting her off. “Really. I know the Weasleys got here earlier today, but having those two just makes it even easier.” Harry pulled her into a quick hug before placing the flower in his pocket.

“Good luck this evening, Harry. I’m sure you’ll do great,” Violet then said.

“I’ve had a couple of brilliant teachers,” he told her with a smile.

“I would say win this thing - but I don’t think that’s your ultimate goal, is it?”

“No. I think surviving is the main goal here. Winning is just the bonus.”

“When you two are done - shall we go get some dinner?” Ron said as he sauntered over to them with Hermione. “I’m starving.”

“When are you  _ not _ starving, Ronald?” Hermione quipped back. “Let’s go.”

Mr and Mrs Weasley, along with Bill, were waiting for them in the Entrance Hall along with Lupin and Padfoot. Violet faltered at the sight of Bill, who looked as cool as ever with his fang earring, his ponytail, and the dragon hide jacket.

“When you said the Weasleys were here - I thought you just meant the parents! Not Bill!” she hissed at Harry, who started chuckling.

“Surprise,” he whispered back, and she rolled her eyes.

Padfoot immediately came running up to Harry, jumping on him and barking happily. The boy patted the dog on the head, pleased to see him. Hermione and Ron went to greet the Weasleys while Violet approached Lupin.

“How are mum and dad?” she asked him.

“They’re good. Busy,” he responded. “I expect if Harry knew them any better you would have invited them down for this instead of myself and Padfoot.”

Violet shook her head. “No, you and Padfoot were closest to Harry’s parents. It only felt right that you were here.”

“Hello, Vi,” Bill then approached the pair of them. Lupin took that as his cue to head into the Great Hall with everyone else while Bill spoke to the girl. “How are you?”

“Alright, thanks, you? I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

“I thought I’d take a bit of time off work, come down with the family,” he replied. “Heard something interesting happened at the Yule Ball…”

She winced. “We’re not going there. Come on…” She grabbed him by the cuff and led him into the Great Hall, where they joined the rest of their friends and family at the Gryffindor table.

Violet remained fairly quiet throughout dinner, but mostly kept her eye on Harry who appeared to be a lot calmer than he had been that very morning. She was more than happy to listen in on everyone else’s conversations for the time being. Harry was eventually whisked off by McGonagall to go and gather with the other champions, while all the other students and teachers headed on down to the stands in front of the maze.

She ended up being sat between Lupin and Bill, while the Weasleys sat with the rest of their family and Hermione on the row in front.

The atmosphere was incredible, almost overwhelming, only added to by the marching band that was playing a cheerful tune. Each school was very vocal in supporting their respective champions, with banners and streamers and dancing and face paint galore.

“This is… something else. Not even the first task was like this!” Violet remarked.

“What about the second task?” Bill frowned.

“I was one of the victims in the lake for that,” she said. “And… was sort of too focused on Harry once we got out.”

“I see. So was I right, then?” he asked, cryptically, but Violet knew what he meant.

Lupin coughed awkwardly on the other side of her.

“Yes. You were,” she said simply.

Thankfully, all conversation came to a halt, as all the champions had been brought out onto the pitch and were standing before the maze, with Dumbledore announcing who would be going into the maze first, what dangers they faced, and their goal. The maze itself was huge - however Harry had described it back when he first saw it, it was double in size. There really was no way anybody could cheat for sure.

Harry and Cedric were the first ones to go in, followed by Fleur and Krum. The stadium didn’t fall to silence entirely, but everyone had murmured chatting.

“I suppose we have to wait now,” Violet said. “Not entirely entertaining…” She leaned down towards Hermione and Ron. “Do you think we did enough?”

“We’ve done all that we can,” Hermione said. “He knows a lot more hexes than a fourth year should now! I’m sure Harry’ll be fine.”

“He always is - he’s faced more danger than the rest of us,” Ron added.

“I think even I’ve made than point before… you’re right. It’ll be fine,” Violet agreed. “Um… I know it’s still a little way off, but what are you two up to for the summer?”

Ron shrugged. “Dunno. But you’re all welcome around mine any time if you want. Can we teach you how to  _ properly _ play Quidditch, Vi? Instead of going through books?”

“Fine,” she sighed. “I can’t keep avoiding it forever…”

“Ginny can help!” Ron was getting excited now, and his sister started to pay attention to the conversation. “She could be a great Chaser if she actually tried out for the team…”

“Oh - shut it, you,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “I’d love to teach you Quidditch, Violet. Seems like it would be a good time.”

“If you count a good time being me falling off of my broom because I can’t hold the Quaffle, then sure…” Violet muttered, only causing the youngest Weasley to grin.

“Perfect,” Ginny laughed. “We’ll have a great time!”

“Thanks, Ginny…”

They passed the time like that - idly chatting away about their plans for the summer - until some red sparks shot up from the maze. A couple of minutes later, Fleur was escorted out of the maze. She was covered in dirt and could only be described as traumatised. Not long after that, Krum was retrieved too. He appeared more confused than anything.

“I hope they’re alright,” Violet said.

“Me too,” Hermione said. “I wonder what happened… there’s no way Fleur could have been  _ that _ scared by what was in there!”

The two girls exchanged a look; there was a building anxiety in the both of them, particularly in regards to Harry, and it became a lot more difficult to carry on with regular conversation. It was strained, but it was too hard not to worry after seeing the state of Fleur and Krum.

A good half an hour, maybe forty minutes later, there was a bright flash and Harry, Cedric, and the Triwizard Cup appeared just in front of the maze on the floor in a heap. The Cup bounced off elsewhere just as the crowd erupted wildly and the marching band started up again. Violet glanced at Lupin with a massive grin on her face as they began to applaud with the rest of them, Padfoot barking madly, but when Violet turned to look at the boys again, her heart dropped.

Harry was clinging onto Cedric like there was no tomorrow; like if he let go he would lose him. Cedric wasn’t moving.

A lump in her throat, Violet jumped up from her seat and fought through the oblivious crowd down to Harry and skidded to a halt on her knees next to him. He was sobbing, pale, clammy, and like he’d seen a ghost. That was when she got a good look at Cedric: eyes wide open, unmoving, no life to them.

He was dead.

Fleur screamed.

“Harry…” With shaking hands she carefully pulled her friend into her arms, where he continued to cry on her, muffled. A pit formed in her stomach, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the Hufflepuff boy.

“He’s back!” Harry was practically screaming into her shoulder. “He’s back - Voldemort’s back!”

By now the marching band had died down, as had the cheering. Everyone was beginning to realise that even though both the boys had made their return, a life had been lost. Cornelius Fudge was telling the staff members in a hushed voice that yes; Cedric was indeed, gone.

Violet finally looked away from Cedric and began to cry with Harry, tears she didn’t realise had been building up finally spilling over and falling into her friend’s hair as she cradled him. As if finally feeling somewhat safer, she noticed how Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her more tightly than ever.

“Miss Merryworth…” Dumbledore said gently next to her. “Miss Merryworth… Violet, I need to speak to Harry…”

Harry must have heard Dumbledore, because he looked up briefly, tears streaming down his face as he told the headmaster: “Cedric - he asked me to bring his body back. But - but he’s back! He - he killed Cedric...”

“It’s alright Harry, you brought him home… it’s alright…”

There was a crowd forming around them, and the barking of a dog told Violet that Padfoot and Lupin were nearby. Mr Diggory had collapsed to his knees next to Violet, crying out about his son, and the words “ _ my boy! _ ” tore through Violet horribly. In her efforts to comfort her friend, she’d momentarily forgotten that they were right next to a body, and she felt awful for that.

A few moments later, Padfoot was nudging at Harry with his nose, and Moody was coming to peel him off of Violet.

“P-Professor M-Moody?” Violet was visibly confused as he pulled the distraught boy away from her.

“He doesn’t need to be here…” he growled as he took Harry away.

Rooted to the spot, Violet breathed heavily through her tears before mechanically reaching over to Cedric and carefully closing his eyes, whilst Mr Weasley comforted Mr Diggory.

She shuffled back away from the body, setting her weight back on her knees as Padfoot jumped up into her lap and started licking at her face in an effort to cheer her up. She ended up wrapping her arms around the Animagus, feeling comforted as she ran her fingers through his soft fur.

Someone placed a cloak around her, and Violet looked up to see Lupin standing above her, his face set like stone; that only broke for a moment as he winced while crouching down in an effort to sit with her. He placed an arm around her.

“Being the observant one is sometimes a curse, sweet girl, and I’m sorry for that,” Lupin muttered to her, as she kept glancing back over at Cedric. “Were you friends with him?”

“Not - not really. But he was…” she couldn’t get the words out - not right now anyway.

“It’s alright, you don’t need to say anything. It’s a lot to take in.”

She nodded, yet again transfixed on Cedric.

“No - look at me,” Lupin said, gently taking hold of her chin and turning her head to look at him. “Don’t look there. Just at me.”

Padfoot aided in Lupin’s efforts by nudging her head with his nose, giving it a little lick in as well. She did as she was told, and remained staring at him, trying to even out her breathing and try to calm down.It started working, until Dumbledore headed over to her.

“Miss Merryworth - where’s Harry?”

“Moody took h-him,” she stammered out. “I - I don’t k-know why.”

Dumbledore gestured to some McGonagall and Snape and practically ran from the stadium. Soon enough, the remaining teachers began to make sure the students started to filter out and back up to the castle. The only exception to that were Ron, Hermione, and the other Weasleys, who stopped by the odd trio sitting on the ground just mere metres from the Diggorys.

“What did Harry say?” Hermione asked, squatting down next to her friend.

“Voldemort killed Cedric,” Violet said quietly, hugging Padfoot even tighter.

Nobody said anything.

“Can we go?” she then asked even more quietly.

“Of course, sweet girl,” Lupin said quietly. Violet let go of Padfoot and allowed Lupin to help her up, and she wrapped his cloak tight around herself.

Before they left, however, she cautiously approached Mr Diggory.

“Excuse me - sir? I - I’m so,  _ so _ sorry,” she told the man timidly. With the help of Mr Weasley, he was able to stand up, his attention going between her and his son.

“You… you were at the World Cup, weren’t - weren’t you?” His voice had completely cracked and was hoarse.

“Yes. Yes I was. I just - I want you to know - Cedric’s brilliant… really,  _ really _ incredible. A few months ago he - he sat with me in the library when he saw I was upset and struggling,” she was getting choked up all over again just thinking about it. “He’s - he's truly a good person through and through. He always looked out for everyone.”

Mr Diggory nodded, and clumsily patted Violet on the shoulder before giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, dear girl…”

After that, she went back over to their ragtag group along with Mr Weasley. Mr Diggory was in the care of the Ministry by the looks of things.

The walk back to the castle was solemn, wrought with a heaviness that none of them knew how to address - if it could be addressed. The only comfort they had right now was each other, even if it was in companionable silence. Padfoot walked right next to Violet, making an effort to brush against her leg every now and then, as if trying to give her some extra love.

Whether it be a stroke of luck or they just had excellent timing, they bumped into Dumbledore and McGonagall now escorting Harry towards the Hospital Wing once they reached the stairwell inside the Clocktower. He looked positively worse than he had done before, his pale face stretching out into something more gaunt. Padfoot yapped and scampered over to the boy, jumping up his legs. Even that broke through Harry's haunted gaze, and he crouched down to pet the dog, the tiniest hint of a smile on his face.

Their little group stopped a short distance away, wanting to give the boy some space. When he made eye contact with Violet, however, something there was clearly beckoning to her; begging her to come with him. She shrugged out of Lupin’s cloak, handing it back to him and cautiously approaching her friend, to which McGonagall tried to object.

“Miss Merryworth-”

“No,” Harry said, his voice hoarse. Violet stopped in her tracks, halfway to Harry.

“Mr Potter, you need your rest-”

“And Violet won’t disturb that. I - I want my friend.”

“Minerva,” Dumbledore said quietly. “Let them.”

The professor nodded curtly, and Harry stood up as Violet finally bridged the gap between them. He took hold of her hand, and she didn’t care that the blood from his arm trailed down between their interlocked fingers.

“Remus,” McGonagall beckoned him to come with them. “I’m sure Mr and Mrs Weasley and Bill can escort the others back to Gryffindor Tower.”

So the Weasleys and Hermione went in one direction, while the rest headed up the stairs in the Clocktower to get to the Hospital Wing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because yes, Violet definitely became more open and now she's going to be feeling some kind of way. I'm sorryyy.


	46. Fourth Year End

Madam Pomfrey was initially unimpressed at the fact Violet had come in with Harry, but on remembering that the girl was one of the more respectful students - and of course at Dumbledore’s insistence she stayed - she let it slide. Violet sat patiently in a chair while Harry was fixed up and instructed to take a sleeping potion. He didn’t take it immediately, so the nurse clucked her tongue and told Violet to make sure Harry did actually drink it before going to sleep, and wandered off to leave the pair of them alone. Lupin lingered nearby at a respectable distance. Padfoot curled up next to Harry’s bed.

Harry looked at Violet, his face still ghostly pale and his eyes bugging out with worry. “I saw them too,” was the first thing he said. “Your fa- the - the Oaks’,” he corrected himself. There was no way he could bring himself to refer to them as that.

“W-what?”

“ _ He _ summoned them there, along with a load of other Death Eaters,” Harry spat. “And - and Willmott. He’s one of them now.”

Violet made eye contact with Lupin across the room, and he looked just as horrified as she was. He came over to the pair of them, a little frantic.

“Harry - are you  _ sure _ Willmott was there?” he asked the boy, who nodded.

“Looked as vindictive as the day he shoved Violet up against that wall,” he said, before turning to his friend. “I’m sorry.”

Violet’s eyes had watered over and she hastily looked down at her lap, unable to respond.

Lupin, on the other hand, pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I need to head to the Owlery - or better yet, use the Floo Network and tell Gen…” He then glanced between Harry and Violet. “Will you two be alright on your own with Padfoot?”

They both nodded, and Lupin set off.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked Violet quietly.

“Why are you asking me that?” she mumbled, still looking at her lap. “I’ll be fine - you’re the one who… what happened, exactly?” She finally looked back up at Harry, eyes wide and tears streaming down her face. “I mean - the way you came back. It was a Portkey, wasn’t it? Sorry - you should sleep.”

“It was a graveyard,” he said. “That’s where the Portkey took me and Cedric. That was where… it all happened. Violet, I didn’t think I’d make it back if it weren’t for the duel.”

“Duel?”

“I duelled Voldemort. Something happened - our wands connected and… I saw my parents again. I saw Cedric again. They were ghosts. They distracted him and I was able to get away. Why did that happen? Do you know why?”

Violet shook her head. “That’s a bit of magic I’ve not yet read about.”

“I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough… thanks for sticking around, and - and for earlier.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the violet; a little crushed, but still in good enough condition. He tried to give it back to her, but she pushed his hand away.

“Keep it,” she sniffed. “That’s yours now.”

“But you said-”

“And I can do with it what I like.” Violet reached for the sleeping potion and handed it to Harry. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Reluctantly, he took a couple of sips of the potion. By the time he’d placed it back on his bedside table and removed his glasses, it started to kick in; he was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Breathing a sigh of relief that her friend was finally resting, Violet leaned back her chair, crossed her eyes, and closed her eyes, hoping that she’d drift off soon.

After several bad dreams involving seeing Cedric’s body on the ground and Harry sobbing over it, Violet woke up with her head resting on Harry’s bed. He was awake too, and the screen had been pulled around them. Padfoot was on high alert, as there were hushed voices in the Hospital Wing. Lupin’s voice was among them.

All the adults were arguing with Cornelius Fudge about the truth in Harry’s story; eventually the boy himself piped up and suggested the Fudge had been reading too much of Rita Skeeter. Mrs Weasley was the one who pulled the screen aside - everyone else in the Hospital Wing shocked to see the pair of them were awake.

Violet, however, was more shocked to see her own parents there, along with Snape. Everyone else who had been around last night - bar Ginny, Fred, and George - were also present. An unconscious Moody lay in the bed across from Harry’s.

“Mum? Dad? What are you doing here?” she queried, rubbing her tired eyes.

“Minister, I think it’s time you leave…” Dumbledore suggested. The Minister made a hasty, embarrassed exit after that.

Dumbledore made sure the doors of the Hospital Wing were firmly closed, he addressed Padfoot directly.

“You should be fine now,” he told the dog, who then transformed back into Sirius. When the Weasleys nearly had a heart attack, Dumbledore and Ron swiftly told them that it was fine; Sirius was innocent, and had been the whole time.

“Sirius - I need you to raise alerts for the old crowd. Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher - anyone you can find. Perhaps Lupin can be of assistance too.”

“Stay at ours, if you’ll be helping Remus,” Geniveve said, then turned to Dumbledore. “You can already count Thomas and I back in. Anything we can do - and it’ll double my chances of making sure Dexter doesn’t fall completely to their side.”

Thomas took her hand and squeezed it lightly, before looking at Harry.

“You’re certain that Willmott was there last night?”

“Absolutely. Like I said to Remus last night - he was as vindictive as the day he hurt Violet,” Harry told the man, and he saw his face darken.

“Sirius - any good friend of Remus’ is a friend of ours. You’ll have to share a room, but know this: you have a home with us any time,” Thomas said.

“Thank you - both of you,” Sirius replied. Lupin was reassured.

“As for yourself and Severus,” Dumbledore addressed them. “It is time for you both to put aside your differences - forget all old school arguments - and trust each other.”

Begrudgingly, Sirius and Snape shook hands, giving each other curt nods.

“And Severus - are you prepared to do what is necessary?”

“I am,” the Potions Master replied, before swiftly billowing out of the room with no other words exchanged.

“If mum and dad are in - I am too,” Bill then said. “I can send word out to Charlie as well, see if he can help.”

“Excellent, thank you,” Dumbledore said. “Now - if we could leave Mr Potter and his friends in peace…”

“Albus - do you mind if we stay a little longer?” Geniveve asked him.

“Of course. Take as much time as you need.”

He then left with the other Weasleys and Lupin.

Thomas and Geniveve hurried over to their daughter and Harry, taking it in turn to hug each of them; to which the boy was surprised but grateful for. Especially the hug from Geniveve.

“We’ll do everything we can to make sure you get to ours at some point this summer, alright sweetheart?” Geniveve said to him after pulling away. Violet could practically see Harry’s heart melt at being called that, and she nodded in agreement with her mother’s statement.

“Okay,” he said, somewhat meekly; he was still in shock.

A loud  _ smack _ jolted them all; they looked over at Hermione by the window, who was now holding something in her hand and trying to look inconspicuous.

“Get some more rest,” Geniveve said, cupping Harry’s cheek. “We’ll get the others back to the Common Room.”

“We’ll stay a bit longer, mum,” Violet said, with Hermione and Ron nodding in fervent agreement.

“Alright. We’ll see you in a couple of weeks then. We need to go catch up with Dumbledore some more now” She planted a kiss on both Violet’s cheek and Harry’s; Thomas did the same, then they both took their leave.

Ron came over and sat on the edge of Harry’s bed.

“How you feeling, mate?”

Harry shrugged.

“Sounds about right…” Ron sighed. Hermione shuffled closer.

“Violet?”

“I’m doing a sight better than Harry is,” she said. “But I need to sleep in my actual bed, I think.”

“Go,” Harry urged the three of them. “I’ll take whatever’s left of that Sleeping Potion and catch up with later or tomorrow.”

The three of them exchanged worried glances, but nodded all the same and left him be.

Hermione immediately threw her arm around Violet as soon as they were out of the Hospital Wing. “That was brave what you did last night. Closing Cedric’s eyes.”

“Please don’t,” Violet said softly, tears springing to her eyes again. That was the last thing she needed to be thinking about.

“Right. Sorry.”

* * *

The remainder of their year at Hogwarts was strange.

People were actively avoiding Harry at all times, and he’d taken to eating lunch at a later time so as to avoid being stared at. He’d tried to give his Tournament winnings to the Diggorys when he saw them after coming out of the Hospital Wing, but they refused and instead thanked him from bringing Cedric back home.

The end of term feast wasn’t the usual feast it normally was: instead of the winning house colours for the House Cup, there were black banners draped from the ceiling. Dumbledore spent his speech talking about Cedric Diggory, telling the school how wonderful he was, and the truth behind how he had died. When they all raised their glasses in toast to the boy, Violet slipped her hand into Harry’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze as they and the rest of the three schools all cried and mourned together over Cedric.

On their final morning at Hogwarts, they all saw the other schools off before heading home themselves. That was a nice little pick me up.

Everyone had gathered in the Entrance Courtyard, exchanging addresses on scraps of parchment (Hermione was approached by Krum, asking her to write to him), tearfully hugging each other goodbye; solidifying the bonds of friendship that they had all made that year.

“Violet?” came a French voice from behind the girl. She turned to see Fleur with her younger sister, and she paled. Harry was doing his best not to smirk.

“Hi - hi, Fleur. Or, goodbye, really.

“I never got to thank you, for ‘elping Gabrielle in ze lake,” she said.

“It was only a little push in the right direction-”

“Zat doesn’t matter,” Fleur shook her head. “It still ‘elped. But why - why did you run away at ze Ball?”

Violet immediately went red. “I - I - um, well…” she sighed, trying to calm herself from any embarrassment. “Beauty like yours intimidates me in a… good way, I suppose,” she finally said. “And to know you’re polite and a brave witch makes it all the more better.”

Fleur was rather taken aback by the compliment, but smiled all the same.

“I ‘ope you ‘ave a good summer, Violet,” she said, before handing her a neat little scrap of parchment. “Write to me. If you want.” Fleur then kissed the girl on both cheeks, before heading off with her sister to join the other Beauxbatons.

“‘Beauty like yours intimidates me in a good way,’” Harry repeated with a massive grin on his face. “You had it  _ bad _ for her, didn’t you?”

“And now I have her address,” Violet said, pocketing it. “Maybe I’ll get myself a girlfriend one day,” she then joked, and Harry playfully nudged her.

“At least wait for me to get a crush on someone else, and then go for it. You have my full support. No matter what you find your sexuality to be,” he said, as they approached Ron and Hermione. The rest of the school were cheering on the Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs as they made their way down towards their respective modes of transport home.

“What’s going on?” Ron asked.

“I think Violet just flirted with Fleur Delacour,” Harry said.

“Shut it.”

“I can write to her any time I like,” she said.

“So will you?”

“Not sure.”

“Can I have her address then?”

“Absolutely not, Ronald.”

He shrugged. “I tried.”

“Speaking of letters - you’ll all write this summer won’t you?” Hermione asked.

“Nah.”

She rolled her eyes, but was smiling all the same. “Harry will, won’t you?”

“Oh yeah… every week…”

“Don’t worry Hermione - you can count on me to write,” Violet reassured her. “Harry claims sarcasm, but I know for a fact I’ll get a letter from him at  _ least _ twice a week.”

“Stop it, you,” Harry said, ruffling her hair. She batted him away, but in the process they made eye contact. She knew that he felt it again; that little spark that had been following them for the past year, and suddenly his earlier joke about the crush felt far more serious.

Violet looked away and tucked her hands into her pockets.

* * *

The journey home was entertaining to an extent.

Malfoy tried to pick a fight with them yet again, and he, Crabbe, and Goyle ended up with the worse end of the stick. They all had too many curses and hexes flung on them at once, particularly because Fred and George had been on their way to see the four Gryffindors and had surreptitiously helped.

They finally revealed why they had been blackmailing Ludo Bagman - because of a bet about the World Cup (“I had a  _ feeling _ it was to do with a bet, when I found out,” Violet had said), and Hermione told them all of her investigation throughout the latter half of the year into how Rita Skeeter knew personal details. She revealed a beetle in a jar: the news reporter had been an illegal Animagus (“that explains the Defence Against the Dark Arts comment in the  _ Prophet _ …” Harry remarked).

After that, they partook in several rounds of Exploding Snap and eventually Violet and Hermione started on some reading again, as ever.

Eventually the train pulled into Platform Nine and Three Quarters, and they all made their way through the barrier to their waiting families.

Hermione gave Harry a kiss on the cheek goodbye before scurrying off to her parents, and Ron mentioned how he’d get him to the Burrow at some point.

Violet had tried to say a casual goodbye Harry, but instead headed back over to him in what she considered to be a bold move, as everyone was watching her. Not that that was unusual, because it seemed as if they were now bound to say goodbye to each other on the platform at King’s Cross station in front of their families, but it was  _ how _ she said goodbye this time around that made it all the more nerve wracking.

He was still a couple of inches taller than her, a fact that she realised would always attract her to him. It led to Violet staring up at Harry for a few moments in silence before she actually said anything, for once willing back the embarrassment that would usually show in her face.

Perhaps this would have felt more normal, more like a platonic gesture between friends, but for now she knew it meant just that little bit more than that until she saw Harry again. It would mean something different to how Hermione did it, and nobody else would understand why.

“I’ll see you very soon, Harry,” Violet told him, cupping his cheek with one hand as she went up on tip toe to press a kiss to his forehead. Very different to the casual peck on the cheek that Hermione had given him a minute previously.

As Violet set back down on her heels - her hand still on Harry’s cheek - her eyes were just about as watery as his. They both knew that there was a deeper meaning to the gesture that neither of them were ready to carry on discussing just yet. As fine as it was, the unspoken agreement that they communicated through their eyes suggested a difficult, underlying pain from it.

“Y-Yeah. You’ll  _ definitely _ write like last summer, won’t you?” Even his voice was wobbly.

Violet nodded, smiling a little. “The Great Escape,” she whispered, lowering her hand.

“The Great Escape,” he echoed, hurriedly pulling her into his arms for a much needed hug. They remained like that for moments, minutes, hours - they didn’t know about the passage of time - but the bubbling feelings the warm, almost lovers like embrace left behind were too much to bear.

Eventually they broke apart, ignoring the fact they were being stared at.

“Violet, I-”

“I meant what I said, that I’ll have your back no matter what,” she murmured.

“Me too. Always.”

“I’ll make sure you’re back at mine for your birthday again, and then we’ll go to Ron’s together. You, him, and Ginny can teach me how to play Quidditch. How does that sound?” she asked him. He smiled at her.

“That sounds good,” he said.

“Bye, Harry.”

“Bye, Violet,” Harry said, returning her gesture and pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

Even though they smiled at each other when Violet headed back off to her parents, even though everything they needed to speak about at the time had been spoken about months earlier - the Yule Ball was still going to hang over their heads. The kiss in the Common Room was still going to hand over their heads. Their feelings for each other were going to always be there, now more than ever.

Violet cried the remainder of the journey home, and didn’t tell her parents why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was initially going to be two chapters but... didn't really want to stretch it out so much. Anyway, can finally start on Order of the Phoenix now! Summer is going to be... interesting. I don't have as much prepped ahead for this, so it may be a little while longer before I update (like a couple of weeks max). Would love to see a couple of comments, they always mean the world.
> 
> Thank you for all the support!!


	47. Summer, 1995: Cryptic Discussions

To Violet, having Sirius around felt strange - sometimes in a good way, but sometimes it felt wrong. This was time he should be spending with Harry, but… here he was. Sharing a room with Lupin in her house. It had been a few days since she’d arrived home from school and it was still taking time to get used to. The good news was that he was starting to look healthier, and not eating like it was his last full meal.

“Morning, bookworm,” he said to her once he finally came down for breakfast. As per usual, Violet was always found in the dining room around ten thirty in the morning with a book in hand along with her cup of tea and crumbs on a plate.

“Morning…” she muttered in response, still not sure how she felt about him calling her that. Either way, Violet set down her book and poured Sirius the last of the tea from the pot, sliding the cup over to him as he settled down opposite her. “Uncle Remus still asleep?”

“Yep,” Sirius replied, gratefully taking the tea and sipping from it. “We got back quite late. You know what he’s like. Might want to make a fresh pot of tea.”

“I’m sure he can do that himself,” Violet said, picking up her book again and flicking to the page she’d been on. Sirius frowned at her.

“Are you alright? Genevive said you’ve been out of sorts since getting home.”

Violet sighed. “I mean… it’s hard to get the picture of a sort of friend’s dead body out of your head at night,” she was very quiet when saying that, and tried to hide her face behind her book. “And seeing your best friend look as haunted as he did… that sticks in your mind.”

“Of course. You know we’re all here to listen to you, if you want to talk about it.”

“Thanks. I just… don’t know how to put it into words. I’m not particularly good at that at the best of times.”

He nodded in understanding. “Remus and I are both staying in today, by the way. You won’t be on your own.”

“In that case, I’ll be out in the garden,” she said. “It’s nice out. Might write a few letters to my friends out there.”

“It’s been what? Four days? And you’re already writing?”

“Should it matter? Besides… I’m sure Harry’ll want to know how you’re doing, and I need to sort out how long he’ll be staying here for.”

Sirius cocked his head to the side. “Spending his birthday here again?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Right… right.”

Violet eyed Sirius suspiciously. “What’s going on? What don’t I know?”

“Nothing - it’s nothing,” he replied quickly. “We might not be here for his birthday.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re-”

“Not going to explain that now, as it’s not confirmed,” Lupin said as he walked into the dining room. Violet’s shoulders sagged. “We’re still waiting on numbers - who’s coming back to help.”

“Coming back to help with what?” the girl asked.

Both men fell silent for a few moments.

“That isn’t up to us to tell you,” Lupin replied.

“I’ll just ask mum or dad, then, when they get home from work.”

“It’s not up to them, either,” Sirius said, a pained look on his face.

“I see,” Violet said, snapping her book shut and getting up.

“You’ll get to find out soon though.”

She gave them both a curt nod and retreated upstairs, annoyed. She grabbed some parchment, envelopes, her inkpot, and quill, and immediately headed out to the tree at the bottom of the garden so she could get started on writing letters to Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

Violet was fully aware of the fact that Lupin and Sirius were watching her from the dining room, most likely talking about whatever it was they couldn’t speak to her about yet, and that only served to irritate her further. Why be so cryptic around her? Surely they both knew by now that she could keep a secret, and whatever it was all the adults were talking about - it was definitely a pretty big secret.

Using her book as a makeshift desk, Violet got started with the first letter.

_ Dear Harry, _

_ How are you doing? _

_ I can’t get Cedric’s glassy eyes out of my head. I know whatever you think about to do with him is probably far worse, but I know you’d understand out of all people. _

_ It’s… weird having Sirius here. Great for Lupin, but it feels like you should be getting this time with him, not me. He’s looking a lot better already though. Actual food does that to a person. I’ll sort out getting you here as soon as possible, but it seems like we might not even be at the house? Wherever we are, I’ll make sure you’re with us for your birthday. I’ll try my absolute best. _

_ I miss you. Hope the Dursleys aren’t being nightmares. _

_ Violet _

There. Short and to the point. There wasn’t much else she could say right now, as summer had barely just begun. If she could, she’d just tell him to come round now, but it seemed like that was out of the question going by how Lupin and Sirius had acted not ten minutes previously.

She got out a fresh piece of parchment for her next letter.

_ Dear Hermione, _

_ How’s it being back home? How are your parents? _

_ I’ve sent an owl to Harry to check in on how he is… I’m still worried about him. _

_ My parents are working like normal, so sometimes it’s just me, Remus, and Sirius together at the house, when they’re not out doing… whatever it was Dumbledore asked them to. Do you have any idea what could be going on? They’re being oddly cryptic and have told me right off the bat that if I ask my parents, they won’t tell me anything. _

_ I’m worried. If we’re all being semi kept in the dark, then Harry has absolutely no clue about what’s going on whatsoever. Owl me back as soon as you can. _

_ Violet _

She knew that Hermione might have attempted to do some more academic research in her short time away from Hogwarts - or even had already done some before term was up, just so she wasn’t at any sort of disadvantage to the rest of them this summer. Violet considered herself to be lucky that she lived in a house full of grown up wizards.

She prepped her final bit of parchment.

_ Dear Ron, _

_ How’s the Burrow? I’ll admit I’ve missed it. I really do want to come back - every passing day, the idea of playing Quidditch is more likeable! But I think that’s because I’m stuck with Remus and Sirius most days. Not that it’s a bad thing, but… I guess what I’m asking is when I - and Harry, and Hermione - will be able to come round this summer? Hopefully not too long away? _

_ I think some of it is that I want to actually get to know you and Ginny better too. You’re both great, and I feel like I heavily neglected those friendships last year. I’m sorry about that. _

_ Violet _

Nothing to do with the peculiarities of what was happening around her, but more thoughtful and honest. Violet realised that those occasions where Ron had been attempting to teach her Quidditch from a theoretical standpoint had been some of the most wonderful memories from the previous term; she had definitely underestimated him in some regard, and she knew that was down to his and Harry’s falling out at the start of their fourth year.

Everything was easily amended, though. Ron had a good heart, and he knew she always meant what she said.

She popped the letters into the envelopes and wrote each of her friends' names on them. When she was done, she leaned back against the tree and got stuck back into her book, trying to take her mind off of whatever Lupin and Sirius could have been talking about up at the house. It was difficult at first, but eventually Violet settled into the fantasy world to the point that Lupin was soon trying to call her in for lunch.

She ignored him, not wanting to break out of the rhythm and pace she was going. Sitting under this particular tree in the summer gave her a sense of peace and comfort. Not to mention, the very spot she was sitting was where Harry had sat almost a year ago where her burgeoning crush on him had started to grow.

If anything, that snapped Violet out of her thoughts, and she shut her book with a sigh. Shutting her eyes, she leaned her head back against the tree and took a few deep breaths.

_ Stop thinking about it, this isn’t the time… you’re fifteen. Get through school first, and worry about your feelings for Harry later… _ Violet told herself - or at least, the logical part of her brain told her that.

_ What if you don’t just go for it and someone else comes along and takes his fancy? _ The more emotional part of her brain chimed in.

_ Harry wouldn’t jump around that quickly… _ the logical part said.

_ It’s still a possibility. Don’t lose him! Don’t leave it until too late! _

“You’re crying,” Lupin’s voice came from above her. Violet opened her eyes to see he had a sandwich on a plate for her. He sat down next to her and waited until she wiped her face clean before handing it to her. “What’s wrong, sweet girl?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, hastily tucking into the food. Ham and cheese. Not exactly her favourite, but it’s what they had on hand for a quick lunch.

“It must do, otherwise you wouldn’t be upset and avoiding the subject.”

Violet didn’t say anything and carried on eating.

“Is it about Cedric?” Lupin prompted.

She shook her head.

“Harry?”

She nodded at that.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not really. You should know exactly what the problem is,” she told him stubbornly.

“Feeling conflicted?” Lupin tried not to smile when her silence told him everything he needed to know. “On the one hand, the both of you have done the right thing in remaining friends. You’re both  _ young. _ There’s plenty of time to figure it all out when you’re a bit older.”

“But what if there isn’t time?” she finally said, her voice raised. “What if one day he gets over it and I don’t? Or it’s the other way around? And it’s too late?”

Lupin glanced up towards the house momentarily, where Sirius was sitting at the outdoor table watching them. “It’s never too late. Even if it seems unrequited, there’s a chance it may not be.”

“You said you and Sirius dated for a while because you had feelings for each other - were you two ever actually in love?”

He was rather taken aback by the question, but smiled and answered all the same. “We were in love, but not in the way you think. That’s why we ended up becoming friends again. As much as we said the time apart helped us both with our romantic feelings, I know for myself there’s something still there for him. All that matters for Sirius and I for now is our bond of friendship. Any lingering feelings I have can be dealt with later on, I think.”

“Do you think it’s best that Harry and I keep doing that, then? Or risk it?”

“That’s not up to me to decide. That’s for you two to decide. All I can comment on is that the friendship you share with him is something special. Hold onto that - now more than ever.”

Violet nodded, and shot him a small smile before she handed him the letters she’d written. “If you’re going back to the house, do you mind sending these off with Astra? I think I’ll stay here until mum and dad get home.”

“Of course, sweet girl,” Lupin said softly. He patted her on the shoulder and then left her be.

She carried on reading, aware of the fact that Sirius was watching her for some time before he disappeared back inside too.

Later on, around about six o’clock, Violet remained true to her word and returned indoors once her parents were home. That evening she practically clung to her mother, who was still completely unaware of the feelings she had for her friend. Her unusual clinginess led to Genevive coming to her daughter’s room around bedtime to say more than just ‘goodnight.’

“Darling, what’s wrong? You cried all the way home from King’s Cross and now...” her mother sighed when she saw Violet’s eyes water over. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’ll brush your hair out while you do - like when you were younger.”

Nodding, Violet got out of bed and sat at her desk chair. Genevive grabbed the hairbrush and took hold of her daughter’s long hair and began to comb through it gently.

“Why’s there so much secrecy? What’s going on?” Violet asked, first and foremost.

“I wish I could tell you-”

“Everyone’s being so cryptic, saying I’ll find out soon, but - I’m worried nobody’s  _ actually _ going to say anything!”

“Violet, sweetheart, we’re all being recruited to fight Voldemort again,” Genevive murmured.

“Why - why is that such a big secret?”

“Because of what the  _ Daily Prophet _ has been saying about Harry and Dumbledore. It’s the Ministry’s propaganda, trying to lull everyone into a false sense of security. There’s a few of us that work as Aurors anyway, and everyday we go looking for information about Voldemort we’re risking our jobs,” she explained. “And besides, we’re trying to finalise a few other details… that I don’t know much more about. Dumbledore and Mad-Eye are due a visit next week about it all. We’ll  _ all _ have our final answers then, particularly about what happens for the rest of the summer.”

Violet’s heart started hammering away harder in her chest. “Does - does that mean I won’t get to see my friends?”

“No! Goodness, don’t be silly. Of course you’ll still get to see your friends. Just… not where you’d hoped,” Genevive paused, thinking for a moment. “We’ll get Harry here. I know that would mean a lot to him.”

“About that - about Harry… I really like him, mum,” Violet could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she said those words. “I don’t want to go into too much detail about it, but that’s why I was so upset on our way home the other day. There’s still a lot we haven’t said to each other. Not sure if there’s ever going to be a good time for it.”

“He’s your best friend. There’s never going to be a good time to continue a conversation like that, but you must do it. Especially if he likes you too, which by the sounds of things - he does.”

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“I don’t think you would, considering how close the pair of you are.” Genevive finished with Violet’s hair and set down the brush. “Honesty is always better, even if it does hurt. Now get some sleep. Remus’ll be around tomorrow, Sirius is out again.”

“Good night, mum,” Violet said, getting back into bed.

“Good night, my little flower,” Genevive said, switching off the bedroom light on her way out of the room.

The next day, Violet ended up with a swift response from Harry, who had sent Hedwig. Astra must have gone to him first before carrying on to Hermione and Ron.

_ Hey Violet, _

_ I’m doing as okay as I can. I know what you mean about Cedric… I can’t get the image of him being killed out of my head. I keep having nightmares about it. I’m sorry that you keep thinking about that moment of him on the grass. It’s not fair, is it? _

_ Don’t worry about spending time with Sirius. I know I’ll get as much time in the world with him one day. I’m glad he’s doing alright - there’s a letter for him as well, if you can pass it on. _

_ The Dursleys are okay. I’ve been wandering around Little Whinging for the most part. I have to avoid Dudley and his gang though. Not fun. The good news is that I don’t have to put up with them for a majority of the day. _

_ I miss you too. Can’t wait to see you. If I’m coming for my birthday, I’ll come for more than just one night if that’s okay? Maybe after that we can go to Ron’s together. _

_ Harry _

She smiled as she read the letter over breakfast, but the moment where he mentioned going to Ron’s made her heart sink. Going by what her mother had said the previous night, that wasn’t going to be too likely. She didn’t want to let that slip to him, though. She didn’t want to potentially be the person to let him down. Either way, Violet started on her next letter, feeding Hedwig a bit of toast as she did so.

_ Hey Harry, _

_ If you want, I can brew a Sleeping Potion for you? It might help with the nightmares. That sounds absolutely awful. I’m so sorry. _

_ Sirius is out while I write this, so I’ll pass the letter onto him this evening. He’ll probably borrow Astra from me once she’s back from delivering Hermione and Ron’s letters. _

_ That sounds like a plan. Can’t wait. _

_ Violet _

She stroked Hedwig briefly with her finger before giving her the letter and letting her out through the dining room window she had come in from. As much as Lupin tried to make conversation with her that day, Violet wasn’t particularly in the mood for it and instead settled for keeping to herself in her room doing homework. He left her be, but only disturbed her when she needed to go and get lunch.

That was how the next few days went; Violet wasn’t feeling all that talkative. There was too much on her mind. The occasional bad dream about Cedric didn’t help at all either. Not to mention that Harry was a little slower in his next reply, but he took her up on the offer of the Sleeping Potion, so that gave her something else to do.

Her father gave her a hand with that on the weekend, overseeing the entire thing purely because she was making it for someone else. Thomas did try to engage in conversation with his daughter, but it was clear that she preferred his company over talking.

As a token of cheer up, he made her a cinnamon hot chocolate before bed that night, and the next morning she awoke in slightly better spirits and sent a couple of vials of Sleeping Potion off with Hedwig back to Harry. That was when Hermione’s letter arrived with Astra.

_ Dear Violet, _

_ It’s nice to have a break from the madness of school. My parents are doing very well, thank you! How are yours? _

_ Honestly I’m not entirely sure myself. I expect we’ll all find out soon, if you haven’t already gotten an answer out of your parents. My first thoughts were that it was to do with You-Know-Who. Dumbledore’s definitely up to something. Let me know if you have a confirmed answer. _

_ I’m worried too. That’s not how I expected to spend my summer. I hope to see you all soon. _

_ Hermione _

Violet sent back a hasty reply letting Hermione know that the adults were getting together to fight Voldemort again - ‘again’ being the operative word. She made sure to keep what she was writing out of sight of Lupin and her mother, as she realised they probably wouldn’t want her to be talking about this with her friends just yet…

Now all she had to wait for was to hear back from Ron.

What was most concerning was how long it was taking him to write back out of all of them, but Violet tried not to let that show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turns out I actually had more of the "Summer, 1995" arc already pre-written than I thought. It started out as 5 chapters, but the length of it has now expanded to 8 chapters! I'm really going a lot more in depth on top of what I already had, so I hope you all enjoy it!


	48. Summer, 1995: Scheming with Sirius

It was uncharacteristically hot, for a British summer at the very least.

Violet found herself at the bottom of the garden under the tree as per usual, reading and doing a bit of homework. She was sitting atop a picnic blanket with a bowl of berries accompanying her as a snack, and plenty of water that her mother had put a cooling charm on so that it didn’t warm up from the heat of the sun.

Around about mid afternoon, Violet gave up on homework entirely as it was far too hot to consider carrying on and her brain felt partially fried. She lay down on the blanket and shut her eyes, content enough to actually enjoy the weather for once.

Next to Violet was Ron’s letter, which she’d kept on her since its arrival that morning. She’d read and re-read it, curious as to what was going on. It had been a less than useful response:

_ Hey Violet, _

_ Good to hear from you! Being back home’s great, but… not sure when you all can come over. Something’s come up. I can’t say much more about it. I’ll see you soon though. _

_ Don’t worry about me and Ginny. Last year was a weird year for all of us. No need to say sorry. _

_ Ron _

She let her thoughts of the letter slip from her mind as she relaxed in the sun.

All that filled Violet’s brain was the gentle rustling of the leaves, the occasional buzzes of insects and bees, and the chirping of the birds. She took a few deep breaths and completely chilled out. Her homework could definitely wait for another day when it was less nice out. She couldn’t keep focused on anything in the first place.

If there was one thing she was glad for, was the fact that Harry had actually used the Sleeping Potion she’d made him. His response sat under Ron’s.

_ Violet, _

_ I can’t thank you enough for that. I’ve had a couple of nights worth of dreamless sleep. Couldn’t ask for much more than that. _

_ Harry _

If Cedric’s dead eyes haunted her in her sleep, Violet would have done the same. Unfortunately for her, it was just an image that would jump into her head at any random point in the day. She was thankful she never dreamt about it though.

She opened her eyes, trying not to think about it. She wondered if there was a possibility she would start having bad dreams of it. For now, willing it to go away, Violet stared up at the light filtering through the branches, enjoying the heat of it. She reached up to her left shoulder and felt the skin there; the three, long, raised bumps of the scars from the werewolf over a year ago.

Admittedly she felt bad for having it exposed around Lupin; she could see it in his face every time he looked at her. Except Violet wasn’t going to sacrifice being comfortable in the heat to save his guilt. If she wanted to wear a strappy top or dress that kept her cool, she would. Of course, she’d feel a little bad anyway, but would remind Lupin it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t in control that night, and she was mostly over it now.

Besides, she thought it looked cool now.

“Violet!” Genevive called to her. She sat up and looked up towards the house. “Could you come here, please? It’ll be quick, promise.”

Violet sighed, and slipped the letters into her copy of  _ A History of Magic _ to prevent them from fluttering away. If this was going to be quick - whatever  _ it _ was - she’d sort all of her things out later.

It didn’t matter that her mother said they’d be quick, because the moment Violet walked into the house and saw Professor Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody sitting in the dining room with Remus and Sirius, she knew that she really should have tidied up. This was going to be longer than intended. Dumbledore appeared pleased to see her, whereas Moody clearly didn’t care much.

She’d been waiting for this, and her mother had already pre-warned her that he was different to the Moody she had been taught by for a year (considering it had been a Death Eater under the guise of Polyjuice Potion); this was officially the first time she’d met him.

“Violet, this is Alastor Moody,” Genevive seemed tense as she spoke. “I’m sure you can guess why he and Albus are here…”

“Yes, Genevive did say she had mentioned to you what was going on,” Dumbledore started off. “Given your tendency to uncover any information you desire to know, I thought it best I get here sooner rather than later.” Was that amusement in his eyes? Did he find it funny she was good at eavesdropping?

“That makes sense to me, sir,” Violet said sheepishly.

“The Order of the Phoenix,” he said, “is a secret society I set up during the First Wizarding War. Your parents - along with Sirius and Remus - were a part of it the first time around, and are now offering their services to help yet again. Your mother’s job as an Auror is useful to us, because she can find out what’s going on at the Ministry as they try to cover up Lord Voldemort’s return. Your father’s skills as a Healer are always handy should someone injure themselves while… making convoy with others we want to recruit.”

Violet frowned, but didn’t ask him to elaborate on that point.

“We’re here to tell you that it’s imperative you keep this to yourself,” Moody grumbled. “Nobody can know what we’re doing. It’s on a need to know basis, and it’s up to Dumbledore to sort out who knows and when. Not to mention - your mother and I are most likely to be paired up for any Order work. So I’m in good hands at the very least.”

Her father hid his smirk behind a cup of tea.

“You’re too kind, Alastor,” Genevive said. “Which is saying something.”

“Your parents will be going to see if they can rally up any old school friends over the next few days,” Moody then said. “But you’ve still got Remus for company.”

_ Why not him and Sirius? _ Violet wondered, but before she could even voice her confusion-

“And Violet… it’s imperative you do not discuss this with Harry,” Dumbledore said. “He’s not ready to know about this yet.”

She faltered for a moment.

“But… Professor… Harry’s the one who saw Voldemort come back. It doesn’t make sense to not tell him about what’s going on.”

Dumbledore merely gave her a gentle smile. “I know, Violet, but this is for the best. It’ll keep him safe for now. Soon he’ll know everything, but we must start by making sure you and your family are settled into the headquarters first. You’ll be heading there next week. The Weasleys and Miss Granger are due there tomorrow, and Sirius…” He faced the man in question. “You must relocate there today. Ensure that everything is in as order as it can be.”

_ That’s why it was just going to be her and Lupin. _

Sirius was not happy about that prospect at all. “Why Grimmauld Place? I’d rather see it burnt to the ground.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “I’m aware of your… issues with your ancestral home, Sirius, but use this as an opportunity to reclaim it. Make it your own. Weave new memories into the fabric of those walls.”

Violet could tell Sirius wasn’t buying the purple poetry in the slightest, even though he begrudgingly nodded. She walked over to him and gave him a rather tentative one-armed hug. “It’s alright, Sirius. We’ll still see Harry in a few days anyway. You can just come back for a day.”

“That’s true,” he said, after Violet pulled away. He squeezed her shoulder, looking in slightly better spirits. “And he’ll be on his way to Number Twelve in a couple of weeks, latest.”

“What do you mean you’re seeing Harry in a few days?” Dumbledore queried.

“He’s coming for his birthday. Goodness knows the boy needs some time away from the Dursleys,” Genevive said.

“Ah. I’m afraid that cannot happen.”

“I’m sorry, but-”

“What? Why?” Violet’s tone was stern. For a fleeting moment she didn’t care that Dumbledore was still one of her school teachers, because he couldn’t dictate hers or Harry’s social life.

“It’s too much of a risk bringing him whilst we’re still preparing to set up at Grimmauld Place,” he replied. “I know you and Harry are close friends, Violet, and that’s why he cannot come here. Especially because you’re not to tell him a word of the conversation that has happened today, is that understood?”

“So you can trust me to keep my word and not write any of this in a letter but not trust me to keep my mouth shut around Harry?” Violet was getting more and more frustrated with every passing second.

“Violet, sweet girl, you do tell Harry pretty much-” Lupin started, but she cut him off.

“No! You can’t side with him!” Her voice was shrill as she gestured to Dumbledore. “You of  _ all _ people should understand!”

“Albus, it’s all very well and good that you don’t want Violet telling Harry any of this,” Thomas was desperately trying to diffuse the situation. “But they’re just teenagers. They’re best friends. Let them enjoy their youth together.”

“They won’t have any youth left if they don’t do as they’re told!” Moody snapped. “You-Know-Who is out there, he doesn’t give a damn! It’s dangerous for either of them to travel on their own anyway.”

“This isn’t fair!” Violet said, tears in her eyes.

“Life isn’t fair, missy.”

“Don’t you talk to my daughter like that, Alastor!” Genevive squared up to him. “Whether you were my mentor or not - don’t come into  _ my _ house and start barking at Violet!”

“Professor Dumbledore,  _ please- _ ”

“Violet, I’m sorry,” Dumbledore said sincerely. “You’ll see Harry again very soon.”

“You’re really going to let him be miserable on another one of his birthdays? Alone?” She was in disbelief. When nobody could answer her, Violet roughly shoved past Sirius and her mother in an effort to retreat up to her room.

It was childish, but she slammed the door. She had to let them know she was angry some way or another without actually saying it to their faces. They didn’t deserve that. Violet sat at her desk, grabbing a piece of parchment, debating on what she could possibly write to Harry at that moment. Maybe it was risky to do it while Dumbledore was still in the house, but if she was quick enough she could send it off with Astra before anybody could stop her.

Violet then shook herself out of that - it was too soon. It would be too obvious. Dumbledore probably knew she would do something like that.

She looked out of her window and saw that her dad was tidying up all the things she’d left outside, but not before Sirius came to take it off of him. A couple of minutes later, the man was in her doorway.

“Mind if I come in?”

Violet shook her head, and Sirius stepped inside, going to place everything on her bed and sitting down next to it. She perched herself on the edge of her desk.

“Dumbledore and Mad-Eye left shortly after you ran up here.”

She nodded.

“Tell me honestly, Violet, but are you going to talk to Harry about all of this?”

She was silent for a moment before nodding again. “Writing to him would be risky, right?”

A smirk flickered onto Sirius’ face for about half a moment. “Yes, it would be.”

“I have to go to him, don’t I?”

“You do what you need and want to do,” Sirius told her. “But I’ll help you how I can. I don’t agree with Dumbledore keeping Harry in the dark either, but I have to be much more careful about all of this.”

She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. “And I don’t?”

“You’ll get nothing more than a slap on your wrist from your parents if you do get into trouble,” he pointed out to her. “Look, I came up here to say goodbye, and to let you know that my old room at Grimmauld Place has a fireplace in it. I’m assuming you have Floo Powder?”

“We have some. But what about Uncle Remus-”

“He’ll be out of action for the rest of this week. Full moon is soon. He won’t be keeping that close of an eye on you while your parents are away for a few days. Besides, he’s got his Wolfsbane and the woods down the back of the house.”

“So… are you suggesting that on the night of the full moon we talk via the Floo Network? And you’ll help me figure out the Harry situation?”

Her palms were beginning to sweat as she grew more nervous about the fact she was going to be going behind a  _ lot _ of people’s backs.

“Of course. But you’re not going to be able to write to Harry as often as you do. Don’t get his hopes up, because if you get caught-”

“I know, I know… it would make things worse,” Violet sighed. “Thanks, Sirius.”

“I’ll see you soon, bookworm,” he said, getting up. “I’m heading off with your dad to Grimmauld Place.”

“See you,” she murmured, watching him leave her room. Sighing, Violet went and closed her bedroom door, not entirely sure how she felt about any of this. Deep down she knew that it was better to let Harry know, and she also knew that he would do the same for her.

She was quiet at dinner that evening. Even though her parents were seemingly on her side, it was clear that Lupin wasn’t. They couldn’t bring themselves to look at each other at dinner, and that was certainly going to make the next few days difficult.

“Violet…” Genevive said. “You’ll have to write to Harry and let him know he can’t come to us…”

“I know. I’ll do that after dinner.”

And she did.

_ Dear Harry, _

_ Something’s happened. I can’t explain what it is, but it means you can’t come to mine now. I’m so sorry. I know I’ll see you soon, but… it’s out of my hands. I can’t do anything but apologise to you. _

_ Violet _

She sent the letter off with some more vials of Sleeping Potion, and suddenly she felt less guilty about scheming something with Sirius, even though her heart sank on getting Harry’s reply the next day:

_ Violet, _

_ It’s fine. Thanks for the extra Sleeping Potions. See you whenever you can. _

_ Harry _

With Sirius gone, she could only anxiously await the full moon so that she could talk to him again. She barely spoke to her parents before they left to go see if they could recruit some of their old school friends to the Order, and she wasn’t sure if she was angry with them or just being stubborn.

Being in the house with just Lupin was awkward, mostly because they knew they were silently at odds with each other. Luckily he was out of action due to the approach of the full moon, so he didn’t even try to make conversation with Violet. It made breakfast and dinner time rather stilted over the course of those few days that it was just the pair of them alone, but it didn’t matter too much.

After dinner on the night of the full moon, Violet immediately retreated to her room and read until nightfall.

The moment the moon started to come out from behind the clouds, she crept downstairs to the living room. There was a box of matches on top of the mantelpiece, so Violet struck one and lit the firewood. She grabbed the pot of Floo Powder from the mantelpiece too, and found that it was mostly full, thank goodness. It wasn’t that her parents checked it, but if they did… they wouldn’t be suspicious.

Before she could even use it, Sirius’ face had appeared in front of her, making her jump.

“Sorry about that!” he said to her. “How are you? Is Remus out in the woods?”

“I’m fine,” she said, setting the Floo Powder back where she found it. “And he is. Yourself?”

“Being back home is strange… your friends are lovely though, now that I’ve gotten to speak to them more while they’ve been here. Ron feels bad about not being able to teach you Quidditch this summer.”

Violet smiled. “Of course he does. I’ll make sure he knows it’s all fine when I see him.”

“Naturally. Now. When are your parents back?”

“Tomorrow morning, why?”

“That makes things both more difficult and easier at the same time, if you could believe it,” Sirius sighed. “Easier, because they’ll assume the lack of communication from you would be sulking. More difficult, because sneaking out will be harder with more people around.”

Her heart fluttered. “I thought I might have to sneak away to Harry. Saying it just makes it real.”

“At least you were prepared for that. Have you considered asking Genevive to take you to Harry anyway?”

“I thought about it, but… she’d be betraying her own loyalty to the Order. I can’t do that to my own mum. I’ll go on my own.”

“If you do, you’ll have to do it at night when nobody else is awake. You know where Harry lives, don’t you?”

Violet nodded. “I can get a train to him.”

“Okay! Good… good… my suggestion would be to sneak out through your window and cut through the back of the woods - do they lead anywhere?”

“Just to a park, but on the other side of the park is the train station.”

“You have Muggle money?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Since you’re going in the middle of the night, that’ll give you plenty of time to explain everything to Harry and get back in time to be waking up for breakfast if you want. But… if you don’t want to do that, you’ll need to really act like you’re sulking and that’s why you won’t talk or come out of your room,” Sirius explained. “Keep snacks up there, so that way your parents don’t get suspicious about the fact you’re missing meals.”

“They wouldn’t anyway. I’ve sulked before, and they know to just leave me alone. They worked on the basis of I’ll come out when I’m ready, which usually takes a day.”

“That’ll work in your favour. They won’t notice you’re gone-”

“But they’ll be more suspicious at the moment anyway! Especially after everything with Dumbledore. Remus will  _ really _ be on high alert.”

“Depending on when you go, Remus might still be wiped from his time of the month.”

Violet chewed on her lip for a moment. “It’s Harry’s birthday tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“If I could go now, I would. I’ll have to wait a couple of days. Remus will still be recovering, and my parents will be back. Besides, I need to figure out a way to avoid waking up the Dursleys…” Violet thought about that for a moment. She had Harry’s address, she could use a map to find her way there, but… there was one other minor detail she needed.

“You alright?” Sirius said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Yes! Yes, I’m fine. I think I know what I need to do now. It’ll be easier for me to pretend to sulk… I’ll have to steal one of mum’s backpacks that has an Undetectable Extension Charm on it, so I can take him his birthday present too.”

Sirius nodded. “Okay. When you’re back home safe, you let me know what happened. Owl me. I don’t think we’ll get away with this again. Go get some sleep.”

“Sure. Good night, Sirius - and thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Anything for my godson.”

Then he was gone.

Violet made sure the fire was out and hurried up to her room, where she wrote one last letter to Harry for the summer, hoping that he would answer without wondering what the  _ hell _ she was on about.

_ Harry, _

_ I promise I’ll explain soon. This is a really weird question, but is your bedroom at the front or the back of your house? I’ve got something Gryffindor planned. _

_ Violet _


	49. Summer, 1995: Run Away Part I

Violet was able to nab one of her mother’s magical backpacks quite easily, and without Lupin noticing. Despite the fact her parents had returned from a partially successful trip, they were still of course working adults. So even though she spent time with them in the evenings, it was just her and Lupin during the day time still. Things were less awkward now Genevive and Thomas were back.

Realising that she was going to be gone for the whole night when sneaking off to Harry’s, Violet packed pyjamas, a spare change of clothes, and her toothbrush, along with his birthday present, a card, and several other little treats for the pair of them to share while they spoke. She wasn’t annoyed as much with her parents anymore, but they knew she was hurting about the fact they had to prevent Harry from coming round.

They were just as upset about it as she was, but Violet knew she didn’t need to sulk about it. She put on that act anyway, so that she could be left alone in the lead up to her sneaking off to Little Whinging. She proceeded to spend more and more time in her room during that time, and on the day of her adventure, Violet did not leave her room once she’d showered.

She thought it funny how she’d managed to dupe Lupin as well.

All she had to do now was wait for everyone to go to sleep, and she could sneak out her window. She’d only have a small amount of time to make her way to the train station and get the last train that would take her to Little Whinging; it was eleven o’clock now. The last train was in thirty five minutes.

She slipped a pair of trainers on, and waited patiently, reading over the last letter Harry had sent to her.

_ Violet, _

_ Back of the house. Top left window. What are you up to? _

_ Harry _

She smiled as she read it over, and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans.

She heard her parents coming up the stairs, so rushed to turn out her light. Violet pressed her ear against her bedroom door and listened until she knew for certain they were in their room and not going to come out again.

Once she was sure, Violet carefully opened her bedroom window, put on her backpack, then hopped up onto her desk and leaned out of it. The layout of her house was quite handy in that the kitchen below extended out ever so slightly, so it meant she could slip down on top of it, and then jump down onto the patio from there. 

She was able to shut the window once standing on the roof of the kitchen, and then she carefully jumpe down. Even though it wasn’t far, her legs were still a little shaken by it. That was soon replaced with adrenaline, and she absolutely bolted it down the back of the garden, through the gate and into the woods.

As she cut through there, she became incredibly self conscious of the fact she was young and out and about on her own at night. That only fuelled her sprint further, and soon enough she was out of the woods and running right across the park. Her lungs were burning, but she didn’t stop until she made it to the street.

Slowing down to catch her breath, Violet also checked the time on her watch. She had about fifteen minutes to catch the last train. It was a five minute walk to the station from there, and she still walked quite quickly.

The man selling her the ticket was clearly curious about why a red-faced fifteen year old was getting a train at this time of night, but he didn’t ask her any questions. He just sold her the ticket and let her head down to the platform. She was all sorted with a good six minutes to spare, so she took a seat, finally feeling the adrenaline wear off and she could calm down.

Violet barely gave herself time to think about the fact she was possibly being absolutely crazy doing this, but it was the only way. This wasn’t something that should be said to Harry in writing. It needed to be done in person, sooner rather than later. She didn’t give herself time to think about the fact she could have been heard leaving the house; either way, the train showed up, and she breathed a sigh of relief when it did. It would be another twenty minutes until she was in Little Whinging, and maybe a fifteen or twenty minute walk to Privet Drive from there.

She had a map, and used that to help navigate around Little Whinging once she was there. She felt uneasy wandering through a town she didn’t know on her own at this time of night, but all went smoothly and finally -  _ finally _ \- she was stood outside number four Privet Drive. Violet folded up the map and shoved it into the pocket of her jacket, and realised that the best possible way for her to get under Harry’s window was to climb onto the garage and slip into the back garden.

It was tricky, but she managed it, and hoped that nobody woke up in the process. So she stood in silence, listening out for a few minutes, before scouting around in one of the many plants for a few little rocks. Once she had a couple, she threw them at the top left window.

After a few moments, a light came on.

Harry was bedraggled when he stuck his head out the window, and was certainly shocked to see Violet standing in his back garden.

“What - what are you doing here?!” he hissed at her after he put on his glasses.

Violet couldn’t help herself and grinned at him. “Something Gryffindor! Can we talk? I  _ really  _ need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, hang on…”

He retreated back inside and shut the window, and a few minutes later he joined her out in the garden in his pyjamas. He really didn’t know what to do, but when Violet threw her arms around him in a tight hug, he accepted it warmly and squeezed her back just as tight.

When they broke apart, he gestured to the garden table and they sat down next to each other. Violet put her backpack on the table.

“Nice haircut,” was one of the first things she said to him.

Harry bashfully ran his fingers through it. “Thanks. Better than the mess it was last year.”

She shrugged. “I thought your hair was still pretty decent last year. Look, Harry… I need to tell you why I stopped writing all of a sudden, and then asked you about your window, but… have you heard from Ron or Hermione recently?”

He shook his head, put out by that fact. “I haven’t. Not since the first week of summer. After that, nothing… you, I only stopped hearing from about a week and a half ago.”

“I’m  _ so _ sorry about that, I really am,” Violet’s brow knotted with worry, wondering how Harry was going to take all this. “Dumbledore told me not to say anything to you, and I’m assuming he did the same for Ron and Hermione.”

“That would explain why I’ve not heard from them…” Harry sighed, folding his arms. He looked upset, and Violet really felt for him. She shuffled her chair closer to his, and then unzipped her backpack to get out a box of Bertie Bott’s, handing them to him. “Thanks. So… I’m guessing you’re here to tell me why you dropped off the radar?”

Violet nodded. “It’s to do with Voldemort. Back in the First Wizarding War, Dumbledore set up something called the Order of the Phoenix. It’s a secret society that Sirius, Remus, my parents, and so many others are a part of. They were dedicated to fighting Voldemort and his followers.”

“And Dumbledore didn’t want me knowing about this?”

“No. He didn’t. I have no idea why.” Violet reached for the sweets and pulled out a candy floss flavoured bean, popping it into her mouth. “We’re all meant to be going to London. To Sirius’s old home. It’s essentially where the Order is setting up. I think I was meant to be heading there with my parents and Lupin in a few days. You were meant to be going next week, and then finding out about all of what I just told you. It’s not something I could put in writing, and I didn’t want someone intercepting Astra.”

“Yeah… yeah, I get that.” Harry reached for her hand on the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.”

“What are friends for?” she murmured with a small smile on her face, unable to stop staring at their now intertwined hands.

“How did you get here? How did you sneak away?”

“This whole thing was Sirius’ idea. He knew I intended to sneak off, he just told me the best window of opportunity for it. Had to wait for the full moon to pass, sulk about the idea of not seeing you, and then make my parents and Remus believe I was mad enough for them to leave me alone. It was simple.”

“You’re mad,” he chuckled.

“Or just a really good Gryffindor.”

“That, and a really good friend. I’d have done the same.”

That made her heart skip a beat. It must have shown on her face because Harry started smirking, causing a heat to rise to her cheeks. She instinctively looked away from him, so he let go of her hand and gripped her chin, carefully tilting her head back towards him.

“You don’t need to get embarrassed in front of me,” he told her. “Surely you’d know that by now?”

She nodded, and relaxed a little.

The night was warm - in a nice way - but there was a soft breeze that was welcome regardless. The stars were out, and Violet found herself staring at them as she helped herself to some more Bertie Bott’s Beans.

“I don’t think I’ve seen it so clear,” she said, referring to the sky and swiftly changing the subject. “Makes me think of the room we found.”

“Yeah… peaceful, isn’t it?”

“For once.”

“For once,” he agreed.

“I’m sorry about cancelling on you for your birthday. My parents didn’t want to either, but… Dumbledore.” She then rooted around in her bag for something else, and presented him with something wrapped in green tissue paper. “Happy belated birthday, Harry.”

His lips twitched upwards for a moment. Whatever was inside there felt heavy in his hands, and he suspected that she was about to gift him yet another advanced book. “Thanks, Violet.”

Delicately he unwrapped it, surprised to find not a book but a ornate photo frame with a drawing inside it. On closer inspection, Harry saw it was a drawing of the pair of them dancing at the Yule Ball. The moment his heart leapt into his mouth, his jaw dropped and he wondered if he was about to lose the organ entirely.

“Did you-”

“Oh god, no!” Violet laughed it off. “I can’t draw to save my life. No, there’s a girl who lives on my street. She creates the most beautiful artwork, so I commissioned her to do this for you. As sour as that night ended, I’d say it was an important moment for the both of us. Especially that dance.”

“Yeah… yeah. It’s - I - thank you. Really. It’s lovely.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she replied, zipping up her backpack.

A moment of silence passed between them before Harry spoke again.

“So where is Sirius’ old home?”

“In London. Somewhere called Grimmauld Place,” she said. “It’s shocking how much they actually told me, and still expected me not to say anything to you.”

“Yeah… yeah, wow,” Harry was entirely bemused by that fact. “You - you don’t think… you don’t think Dumbledore  _ knew _ you’d tell me regardless?”

“He’s clever, but I highly doubt he’d be able to predict that,” Violet scoffed. “We’ll never know.”

“Unless we ask. Or… you do a bit of your famous listening?” Harry smirked at her, and she laughed.

“Hmm, if only Dumbledore ever came out of his office at school… sure, I might be able to.” Violet nudged Harry playfully, and yawned immediately after. That reminded him of what time of night it was.

“Come on. You can take my bed, I’ll sleep in the chair.”

Violet took off her shoes before going inside and she followed Harry’s every move precisely once they got to the stairs. She noticed how he skipped a certain step on the staircase, or took an extra long step at a certain point in the hallway. She did the exact same.

Harry switched the lamp on, and Violet could see his room was smaller than hers, not that she cared. It had all the elements of his personality, and it was cosy. He placed the picture on top of his chest of drawers. She sat down on the bed and pulled her pyjamas out of her backpack, raising an eyebrow at Harry who was watching closely with curiosity.

“Bit prepared?” he hissed jokingly. She shrugged, and made a motion for him to turn around. He did so, and she got changed in privacy, dumping her bag and clothes underneath Harry’s desk before getting into bed, sitting up right and hugging her knees.

“All good,” she said, and he turned round to go sit down next to her, by her feet.

“You’re not one to break your word… you’re good at keeping secrets - like with Hermione’s Time Turner in third year - so why’d you do this? Come all this way?” Harry asked her.

She was quiet for a moment before answering. “My loyalty is to you, not Dumbledore. You’re one of my best friends, Harry, and it felt wrong to keep this from you. Besides, he didn’t actually make me swear not to tell you. He just told me not to say anything. Hardly breaking my word, am I?”

He nodded, and laughed a little. “Nice loophole.”

“I’m all about that,” she said. “You know… I feel bad about stealing your bed.”

Harry waved it off. “We’re even. You sat in the chair all night in the Hospital Wing so you didn’t have to leave my side. My turn now.”

“Alright,” she said, not entirely convinced.

The way he went quiet again suggested there was something else on his mind. He looked pensive, as if he couldn’t piece together his own thoughts well enough to start the conversation. Violet had an inkling of what might be on his mind, but before she could say anything-

“Violet…” he whispered, suddenly.

“Harry… I’ve been thinking-”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe… I’d risk it.” It didn’t matter how quiet her voice was, there was a confidence there which ended up disappearing with her next few words. “If - if you know what I’m - what I’m referring to…”

Of course he did. Of course he knew.

The stammering? That was part of the girl that  _ he _ had grown a crush on over the past year. It was all well and good that Violet had become more open and witty - in fact he was proud of her for it - but her quietness and sometimes her silence was what had drawn him in in the first place.

That would always make his heart soften on seeing her. For a moment he forgot where they were and his mind drifted to the countless times he would steal glances at her curled up on the armchair reading; how he would find her with her head tilted towards a conversation she had an interest in potentially being a part of; her charmingly studious nature, especially when she would mutter answers to homework at him ever since first year.

He’d seen her grow a lot. They’d seen each other, and he couldn’t have asked for a better friend to be a part of his little circle.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked her.

“Y-yes.”

It was awkward, but she practically melted into it; it felt right. Something about kissing Harry felt better than the feel of old books between her fingers. He was the rim of a freshly made cup of tea, warm and sweet, but too much at once would be scalding. She liked that element of it.

It was over quickly, and that was fine. The moment had taken both of them by surprise.

“I wanted to say that at the train station…” she said to him, referring back to their previous conversation. “I wanted to tell you then - I didn’t - I didn’t want to leave you without that, but…”

“I know. I felt the same.”

“I’m glad I came here tonight,” Violet then admitted, shrinking down into herself a little. “Otherwise this would have just been left.”

“Me too.”

“I think there’s still more to talk about with that, though.”

“Definitely.”

“But… I really do like you - as a friend - as more than that - and I don’t mind what way it goes. As long as we’re…” she trailed off, uncertain of the best way to end the sentence. Thankfully, Harry understood.

“Yeah. I know. We don’t have to talk about this now if you don’t want to. You look tired, Vi.”

She bit her lip and tried not to giggle when he called her that.

“So you’re calling me ‘Vi’ now? I thought-”

“That it was a Weasley thing? I mean… it is. To a point. But…”

“You’ve really wanted to actually call me that for a long time, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well - you can call me that when we’re on our own,” she said, blushing again. He appeared satisfied with that, and gave her a very cocky grin. “Don’t really want any of the others getting too suspicious.”

“Question is - why didn’t you want me calling you that in the first place?”

“I suppose… I don’t know. Maybe I’ve liked you for longer than I realised, and something in me knew that if  _ you _ of all people called me ‘Vi’ I’d probably just… react too obviously to it,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Good to know… Come on, sleep.” Harry moved so that he was off the bed and sitting in his chair. He pulled it right up to the bedside though, taking off his glasses and placing them on his desk.

Violet settled down into the bed facing him, and he turned out the lamp.

“Good night, Vi,” he said softly.

“Night Harry.”

Realising how exhausted she really was after all the running, Violet fell asleep nearly straight away. She didn’t dream of anything that night, and in fact slept quite soundly. At one stage she woke up around six in the morning to find that Harry had shifted where the chair was: he was sitting right next to the bed but at an angle so that he could put his legs up comfortably. His hand was resting on her shoulder, and she wondered why.

Either way, it gave her comfort, and she fell back to sleep.

They both were awake around seven thirty.

“Sleep okay?” he asked her.

Violet nodded, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Door opposite mine,” Harry said.

Violet crept out of his room to the bathroom, opting to splash a bit of cold water on her face in an effort to wake up a little more. Even though it was early, she knew that was a good thing - she could get home and sneak back into bed before Lupin woke up. Her parents would be on their way to work in the next half an hour or so anyway.

There was a little snag in that plan.

She opened the bathroom door and nearly walked straight into Harry’s aunt, who screamed on seeing the girl.

Violet was frozen to the spot as Harry poked his head out of his bedroom door, his eyes widening at the sight before him.


	50. Summer, 1995: Run Away Part II

Violet and Harry were sat at the dining table, waiting for the Dursleys to say something. Vernon was sitting opposite them, absolutely fuming, while Petunia was eyeing Violet curiously from the kitchen with Dudley.

“So…” Vernon finally sneered. “Who are you? What are you doing here? How do you know the boy?”

She had to refrain from rolling her eyes at how she referred to Harry. “Violet Merryworth, sir, and I came here to see Harry. I know him from school. You’ve seen me at the train station.”

“When did you get here?”

“Last night, sir,” she said simply.

“How?”

This interrogation was dull, to say the least. Underneath the table, Harry took hold of her hand. Both of their palms were quite sweaty.

“I took the last train here, sir, and walked from the station,” she replied politely.

“But how did you get  _ into my house _ ?”

“Harry let me in through the back door.”

Vernon’s nostrils flared, and if he was about to tell Harry off, he was prevented by Petunia speaking up.

“The  _ back _ door, did you say?” She was frowning, slowly heading towards the table and sitting down. “How on  _ earth _ did you get into the garden?”

“I climbed onto the garage, ma’am, and then jumped down onto your patio,” Violet found it difficult to keep herself from sounding too proud about that.

“Strange girl, but you seem more  _ normal _ than the rest of your kind.”

“That might be down to the fact that my father came from a non-magical family. I grew up with the best of both worlds, for want of a better way to put it.”

“So you’re exactly like…” Petunia’s gaze drifted to Harry, and for a moment the anger and fear slipped into something that looked like she was  _ pleased _ someone was just like her nephew? The nephew that she hated having under her roof? Even Harry seemed to notice that too. “What were the sleeping arrangements last night?”

Violet went bright red, while Harry’s eyes nearly bugged out of his skull.

“I slept in a chair…” Harry murmured. “Violet took the bed.”

“Ah, so he has  _ some _ manners after all,” Vernon scoffed.

“Do your parents know you’re here?” Petunia then asked, changing the subject back to more important matters.

Violet shook her head. “They don’t, ma’am.”

“Why?”

“I’m not actually supposed to be here. I wasn’t supposed to see Harry for a little while longer.”

“Why?”

“Stupid reasons, involving the wizard that killed your sister,” she said. “I don’t know how much Harry’s told you, but he’s back.”

Vernon tried to interrupt, but Petunia placed a hand on her husband’s arm and allowed Violet to keep talking.

“My parents along with a bunch of other adults are… trying to discover more of his whereabouts, I’m assuming. And his followers. But they didn’t want Harry to be involved. I didn’t think that was fair, so I made my way down here to tell him what was going on - or at least, what I knew.”

“I see,” Petunia looked grave, going white as a sheet. Vernon was still simmering down next to her, and Dudley was just as confused as ever. “Tea?”

“What?” Violet was taken aback.

“Tea,” Petunia was exasperated. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Don’t offer the girl, tea, Petunia!” Vernon erupted. “She’s one of  _ them! _ She shouldn’t even be here, she just admitted that! Doesn’t respect adults, clearly-”

“Violet has more respect for any adult than you’ll understand,” Harry said, annoyed. “But she also knows when to do the right thing. The  _ brave _ thing.”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ interrupt me-”

“Vernon!” Petunia snapped, standing up and going back into the kitchen to put the kettle on. “Leave it. I don’t want to be dealing with this at this hour.”

He kept quiet after that.

In fact, they were  _ all _ quiet after that. The silence was too awkward to bear, but it was too awkward to talk either. Harry kept a tight hold of Violet’s hand under the table, waiting for his aunt to come back over with the aforementioned beverage. For once, she didn’t make him sort out breakfast. It was mildly surprising how hospitable Petunia was towards Violet, but Harry wondered if she was just trying to put on a better face than normal.

He and Violet found it difficult to stomach the food they were given, but the tea was surprisingly helpful.

“So… he’s back?” Petunia asked tentatively. Violet nudged Harry’s shin under the table so he’d answer.

“Um - uh, yeah. Yeah, he is…”

“Are we safe? Dudley, Vernon and I - are we safe?”

“For - for now… not many people believe that he is back…”

“I see…” It looked like Petunia was having trouble with her food too. Dudley, on the other hand, had no problems, he was just incredibly wary of Violet. Vernon started ignoring her, on the other hand, and left the table once he was finished to go settle in the living room with his newspaper.

“Is - is it alright if I… use your bathroom?” Violet then asked, pushing her plate away. “Thank you for the food, I’m… not particularly hungry, right now.”

Petunia was apparently taken aback by Violet being polite, and very quickly nodded - possibly to just get the girl out of her sight. Harry followed her upstairs, making sure she had a towel before she went into the bathroom.

She breathed a sigh of relief after locking the door. That had been… horribly tense, but it had gone better than she thought it would. As Violet showered, she realised that it would have been best if she’d left earlier - no matter, she was here now. Petunia hadn’t been overly hostile, thankfully, but Violet had an inkling that was because (like it had been pointed out) she appeared more “normal” than what they assumed other witches and wizards to be like. She was also probably saving face, as Violet was technically a guest in the house, albeit an unwelcome one.

Once she was done in the shower, Violet braided her wet hair and brushed her teeth before changing into the long, ditsy print sundress she had brought with her. Satisfied that she looked somewhat presentable, Violet tossed the towel into the washing basket and made her way back into Harry’s room.

“Before we talk about what just happened… I’m gonna-” Harry gestured out the door, implying he wanted to freshen up first. Violet nodded and watched as he picked out some clothes and headed off to the bathroom.

In the time he was gone, she had a little nosey around his room, her eye immediately being drawn to the picture atop his chest of drawers that was clearly of his parents. They were smiling, happy, with James twirling Lily around. Violet smiled as she looked at the picture, the love between the two of them reminding her of her own parents.

She turned her attention to Hedwig, opening the owl’s change and sticking her hand in to pet her. Violet had grown fond of the snowy owl over the years, and it seemed as if the bird felt the same. The constant exchange of letters between Violet and Harry had had a positive effect elsewhere, it seemed.

“Hedwig likes you,” Harry said from the doorway, towel drying his hair.

“And Astra likes you,” Violet said, taking her hand out of the cage and turning to her friend, who shut the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to make things worse-”

“You didn’t,” Harry said, throwing the towel over the back of his chair for now. “I’m surprised they were that calm. But they always put on better impressions for a guest - wanted or not.” While he was talking, Harry was staring at Violet’s left shoulder, still a little entranced by the scars there. She shifted awkwardly, her cheeks flushing.

“Stop it,” she said, although there was a smile on her face.

“They look cool,” Harry admitted. “Have I not told you that before?”

“No. No, you haven’t. Anyway… I should probably head back home, shouldn’t I? Sneak back in before Remus definitely notices I’m gone…”

“Right. Yeah. I can walk you to the train station.”

“Thanks,” she said, rifling through her backpack and pulling on a denim jacket, and slipped on the pair of shoes she’d been wearing the previous night. “I’d stay longer, but I… well, I don’t think your aunt and uncle would want me to, and Remus might clock on…”

“It’s fine. You still came all this way - thank you.”

She nodded, and checked that everything she had brought over was in the backpack. Satisfied, Violet allowed Harry to lead her downstairs.

“Where are you going?” Petunia called from the living room, coming to stand in the doorway.

“Oh, um, walking Violet back to the train station,” Harry said.

She gave them a curt nod. “Good... Good. I’d rather your friends don’t show up at my house unwelcome again. Warning would be nice.”

Violet held back a smirk. “I don’t think I’ll be coming back here again any time soon, ma’am,” she told Petunia. “Thank you for having me briefly, though.”

The older woman shot a frown towards Violet before retreating back into the living room.

The teenagers shot each other a  _ look _ before Harry put his shoes on. They headed out after that.

It was a warm morning, pleasant. Violet was glad she’d packed a dress to wear rather than jeans like she had done the day before; even as they walked she realised that slowly she was beginning to heat up. It probably didn’t help that Harry had slipped his hand into hers, meaning that there was a thin layer of sweat brewing there.

For once there was a strange air of awkwardness around them, like they weren’t quite sure what to talk about.

“I’m assuming if I get back all fine, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks,” Violet piped after a few minutes.

“I guess so.” Harry glanced back over his shoulder to see that Dudley was trailing along behind them. “What the…”

Violet also looked back over her shoulder. “Weird.”

“Aunt Petunia probably wants to make sure I  _ actually _ see you off and we don’t-”

_ Crack! _

The sound echoed out too loudly around them on the quiet street. Violet and Harry stopped in their tracks - Dudley stopping not too far behind them - because right in front of them was Remus Lupin. Angry, unimpressed, pained; like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked her quietly.

She didn’t say anything, her legs starting to feel like jelly. Violet looked to Harry, who was starting to edge to his left - in the direction of an alleyway. Lupin took a step closer and that was when Harry started running, pulling Violet along with him. That was a surge of adrenaline if anything, and suddenly she was steady on her own two feet again as they ran.

They came out the other side and carried on down the street as normal.

Violet risked a glance behind her to see that Dudley was catching up to them and Lupin was struggling to keep up. She almost felt bad - almost, because he flung a hex in their general direction. Harry took them down another alleyway and she reached behind to grab Dudley by the collar and pull him along too.

There was a mesh fence down the side of this one, keeping back bushes, trees, and other foliage, but Harry immediately started climbing it. Once he was at the top, he balanced himself and held out his hand to help Violet up, whilst Dudley climbed up by himself.

The three of them dropped down the other side into the bushes. They fought their way through - gaining a few little cuts in the process - and came out onto a field, where they stopped to catch their breath.

“What - what the  _ hell _ are you doing, Dudley?!” Harry questioned his cousin.

“I was gonna go meet Piers, but mum said to make sure you two didn’t get up to any funny business.”

“Told you,” Harry muttered.

“I hate your family,” Violet murmured, with a frown on her face.

“Who was that man?” Dudley asked, once they set off into a walk again. “Why were we running?”

“Technically speaking, you didn’t have to follow us,” she said. “You could have just gone to Piers and told mummy like the  _ good boy you are _ that Harry did as he said and saw me off. I don’t think you have a problem with lying.”

“Shut your mouth!”

“Then don’t ask questions if you don’t want an honest answer!” Violet huffed, now picking a few leaves out of her hair. “And that man was my uncle.” She turned to Harry. “I don’t know how he figured it out so quickly. He must have gone into my room.”

“I didn’t think Remus knew where I lived.”

“He doesn’t so I’m-  _ oh, _ I’m stupid,” Violet sighed. “I have yours, Hermione’s, and Ron’s addresses on a pin board next to my desk!”

“It’s fine - don’t worry about it-”

“I can’t  _ not _ worry - he just tried to hex us! Well, I suppose me, specifically…”

They had come to a little park at one corner of the field. It seemed like a safe spot to sit and recover for a few minutes - which is exactly what they did. While Harry and Violet were sitting on the swings, Dudley hovered nearby, watching them anxiously and also keeping an eye on his surroundings.

“How long do you think we have?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know. Not long enough,” Violet replied. The sun dipped behind the clouds, and she glanced upwards at the sky. There hadn’t been a cloud in sight earlier on, but now they were beginning to swirl and gather as if brewing for a storm. She hopped off the swing and adjusted her backpack, both Harry and Dudley now also paying attention to what she was looking at.

“What have you done?” Dudley asked.

“Nothing! Neither of us have done anything!” she told him.

“Your uncle?”

“Definitely not him.”

“Violet Lucinda Merryworth!” A very distinctive voice called out. Lupin.

“That’s your middle name?” Harry asked as the three of them set off at a run again, the heavens finally opening and the rain beginning to fall.

“Not the time…” Violet told him, following the boys as they led her down towards an underpass at a nearby main road. As they ducked down into it, another hex narrowly missed Violet’s head and hit the lamp post instead.

“He is…  _ not _ happy,” Harry remarked.

“Even though I know mum won’t be happy with me later - I don’t think she’ll appreciate the fact Remus is trying to hit me with some sort of spell. I wonder if he’s trying to Body Bind me.”

“Probably.”

Dudley had taken the lead through the underpass, while Harry and Violet took each other’s hands again and walked through at a steady pace behind him. All seemed fine for the time being - Lupin wasn’t quite near enough yet - but then the lights started flickering, and their breath started to come out foggy in front of them.

“Harry…” Violet whispered, her grip tightening on his hand. “Do you feel cold?”

He nodded dumbly, which was when two Dementors appeared at the other end of the tunnel, right in front of Dudley. Immediately, they both went for him and he dropped to the floor half conscious as they fed off of him.

“Dudley!” Harry called out, about to run towards his cousin, going to draw his wand - that was when he realised he didn’t have it. He looked at Violet, panicked, as one of the Dementors started to drift towards them.

Eyes wide in fear, Violet mechanically pulled her wand out of her jacket pocket.

“Have you ever-?”

She shook her head, knowing that he was about to ask her if she’d ever attempted a Patronus before.

A small bout of courage flared up in Violet, and she gently pushed Harry behind her, raising her wand and thinking back to the previous night; thinking of how Harry had so kindly asked to kiss her, and the feeling of that.

“ _ Expecto Patronum!” _ Violet shouted. The white shield that erupted from her wand was feeble, but it gave her a few more seconds to reach behind her and clutch onto Harry’s shirt as more of a driving force behind the spell.

She took a deep breath.

_ “Expecto Patronum!” _

Out popped a sweet little rabbit, strong and bright, bouncing around and chasing away both the Dementors. Dudley was safe again, although he was definitely out of sorts. Harry ran to his cousin’s side.

“Violet -  _ no! _ What have you done?!”

She whipped round to see Lupin in great distress where they’d previously entered the tunnel. Whatever he was truly feeling in that moment, he was doing a bloody good job at concealing it.

Violet pocketed her wand with no regrets for what she had just done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't really get this chapter right... but I hope it's still enjoyable all the same.


	51. Summer, 1995: Grimmauld Place Part I

Lupin was beyond angry, but he kept it bottled up whilst still out in public. Violet knew that would make the inevitable telling off all the more worse. He’d immediately sent a message in the form of a Patronus to her mother, informing her of what had happened.

The silence between the four of them as they headed back to Privet Drive was absolutely deadly. Harry and Violet were supporting Dudley while Lupin walked behind them, not impressed in the slightest. Violet could feel him boring into her very soul, and her face remained a heated pink colour the entire walk. She was far too aware of him keeping an annoyingly close eye on her, not that he even needed to in that moment.

As they arrived back at number four, Harry let them in. They went straight to the living room and he deposited Dudley on the sofa; Vernon and Petunia immediately started fretting.

“What did he do to you, Diddykins?” Petunia fussed over the catatonic boy.

“Forget him - what did  _ she _ do to our son?!” Vernon snarled in Violet’s direction.

She was about to protest, which was when Lupin spoke up. “ _ Violet _ did absolutely nothing. In fact, she actually saved your son’s life.” How he was keeping such an even tone in his voice, Violet had no clue.

“Well what do we do?!”

“Wait for it to pass. Give him some chocolate. He’ll be fine,” Lupin told them, although even he didn’t look like he believed his own words there. Dudley was still far too clammy and pale, and he couldn’t even talk.

“That absolutely won’t do!” Petunia said. “Come on, Vernon, he needs to be seen to… and  _ you _ ,” she turned to Violet. “Out of my house by the time I’m back.”

“Rest assured, Mrs Dursley, we’ll all be gone by the time you get back. Consider this a pick up for Harry for the rest of the summer.”

A satisfactory enough sentence for the Dursleys, so they took Dudley and drove off; presumably to the hospital. As soon as Lupin was certain they were gone, he rounded on Violet.

“What on  _ earth _ were you thinking, Violet?!” he yelled at her. “Coming here against Dumbledore’s word? Against the  _ Order? _ Using magic outside of school?!” He’d grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing them tightly, and was practically screaming in her face.

Violet’s jaw went taut, and Harry could only stare in shock. He’d never expected Lupin to lose it like that, and he was even more shocked that Violet remained as stoic as she was.

“It shouldn’t have been kept from Harry,” she said through gritted teeth and tears in her eyes.

“That wasn’t for you to decide,” his voice went dangerously low as he said that, and then he roughly let go of Violet; she stumbled, but regained her balance after grabbing onto the mantel above the fireplace for support. Harry started walking over to her. “No,” Lupin said. “Go pack your things, Harry.”

The boy nodded, and uneasily left the pair of them in the living room.

“Your parents should be on their way shortly,” he told Violet, who nodded as she went to sit in the nearby armchair.

“Good. I can tell them about how you treated me just now.”

“As if that’s going to get you out of trouble-”

“I didn’t say it was going to get me out of trouble, did I,  _ Moony? _ ” she said tetchily. “That hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not. Otherwise you would have said that sooner,” she said quietly. Even he couldn’t argue with that. “What spells were you trying to use on me earlier?”

“The Body Binding Curse.”

“Thought so.”

“The Ministry will know what you did. I expect Genevive is convincing them to not expel you entirely,” he said, wandering over to the window and leaning on it with his palms on the sill, getting back to the subject at hand.

“Brilliant. Nepotism.”

“Don’t be so cynical, you might not-”

At that point, an owl flew in from the kitchen window and dropped a letter onto the floor before leaving again. Violet instantly paled, a pit forming in her stomach; she knew what was coming. Lupin did too, because he became impassive as he turned around.

The letter floated up from the floor, the wax seal turning into a mouth and parts of the envelope formed little eyes. Then it began to talk.

“Dear Miss Merryworth,” it said in a female voice. “It has come to the Ministry’s attention that at ten fifteen this morning, you performed the Patronus Charm in front of a Muggle. Even though this breaks the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, we have been informed that this spell was performed in the act of self defence. You must appeal in front of the High Wizengamot on the twenty fourth of August at eleven o’clock sharp. Until then, your place at Hogwarts is currently pending expulsion. Hoping you are well, Mafalda Hopkirk.”

It ripped itself up after that.

Violet couldn’t help but stare at the shreds of paper on the floor until Lupin went to clean them up.

“That’s in two and a half weeks,” she said. “What do I do until then?”

“That’ll be for your parents to decide.”

An intermittent thudding suggested that Harry was on his way back downstairs; he appeared in the living room shortly after.

“I might get expelled,” Violet told him. “ _ Might _ , being the key word.”

“Going by that Howler, I’d say Genevive got to Mafalda and the rest of that department before they could outright expel you,” Lupin said, and then paused for a moment. “I see why you said nepotism, now.”

“Don’t try and be nice to me. Not right now.”

Every passing moment, Lupin began to look more and more guilty for how he’d initially reacted once the Dursleys had left their house.

“Are we going to Grimmauld Place?” Violet asked, moving the subject swiftly on.

“Yes, we-”

A knock on the door brought Lupin to an abrupt stop. He disappeared to go answer it, and moments later, Genevive Merryworth had stormed into the living room with an intense fury on her face that Violet had never seen before. In fact, she was so terrified of her own mother in that instance that she physically recoiled on the armchair.

“You are  _ lucky _ ,” Genevive said, wagging a finger at Violet. “You are  _ so lucky that _ Remus sent that Patronus and I could run down to Mafalda to explain before they did  _ anything _ !”

Violet briefly risked a glance at Lupin, who’s look suggested ‘I told you so.’

“Impatient. That’s what you are.  _ Impatient, _ ” Genevive was pacing up and down, beginning to rant. “I can’t believe my own daughter would take such a risk! You’ll have to answer to the Order as well. You could have compromised us! Don’t you understand the world we’re living in?! I thought you were clever, Violet! I thought you had a  _ brain _ inside that skull of yours!”

“I understand it perfectly, thank you very much!” Violet could take being called impatient, but to have her intelligence insulted was a step too far, especially for her own mother. She rose and squared up to Genevive. “You didn’t see Harry that night! You didn’t see him come back from that graveyard! You didn’t have to close your friend’s dead eyes so that his father could mourn more peacefully! Harry had every right to know - Dumbledore had no right to keep any of that information from him!”

“It wasn’t up to you to tell Harry! You know - Violet, you  _ know _ I was just upset as you were the other day, but this wasn’t the way to go about it,” Genevive’s voice had softened ever so slightly, but it didn’t lull Violet into a false sense of security. Lupin took the opportunity of the more quiet moment to usher Harry out of the house so they could finish arguing in peace.

“Dumbledore didn’t make me promise anything,” Violet pointed out to her, folding her arms stubbornly. “So I did what I needed to.”

“We’ll be a laughing stock of the Order…” Genevive fretted. “Our own daughter… unable to listen to simple instructions and have some bloody patience.”

“Is this about your ego? Proving that you’re not like the rest of your family?” Two bold questions, and Violet immediately regretted the both of them. The fire in her mother’s eyes was almost too much to bear.

“That’s too far, young lady,” she said quietly, getting out her wand. “If you want me to act like them, then I can.”

“Mum, I-”

A quick flick of her wand, and Violet couldn’t talk anymore. Her tongue had rolled back on itself, and the tears finally streamed down her face out of the sheer frustration. Genevive grabbed her by the arm and took her outside.

“We’ll have to Apparate,” Genevive said to Lupin, who nodded, eyeing Violet curiously. “You take Harry.”

“Gen… what did you-”

“No time,” she said, cutting across Lupin.

The world dissolved around them, and then they weren’t in Privet Drive anymore. Violet collapsed to her knees, and she could only watch as her mother stormed ahead to a house that had started to appear between numbers eleven and thirteen. Harry helped her up.

“Are you alright?” he whispered to her, as Lupin hurried after Genevive. “What did she do?”

Violet shook her head, sniffing and wiping away the tears. She then gestured at her mouth and then made a spinning motion with her finger.

“Tongue Tying Curse?”

She nodded in response. He took hold of her hand as they walked across the road and up the stairs into the mysterious number twelve Grimmauld Place. She helped him get his trunk up the steps and into the house, where Lupin and Genevive were waiting at the other end of the hallway.

It was dark and dank inside, and the troll's foot umbrella stand most certainly didn’t help with trying to get Harry’s trunk into the house. Genevive and Lupin gestured for the pair of them to hurry up, so they headed down to the other two adults, who then promptly went down a set of stairs.

The teenagers glanced at each other and followed after, with Harry leaving his trunk at the top of the stairs.

They entered a large, long kitchen, where seated at the table were Thomas Merryworth, Mr and Mr Weasley, Moody, Snap, Dumbledore, Snape, Sirius, a black man who looked like he was a Ministry official, and a punk looking woman with bright pink hair. Lupin took a seat next to Sirius.

“Thomas, could you get Violet some water please?” Genevive asked her husband, shutting the kitchen door behind Violet and Harry. Thomas nodded and did as she said, going to hand the glass to his daughter before sitting back down again.

Genevive pulled her wand out again, pointing it at Violet and the Tongue Tying Curse undid itself. She started coughing, trying to catch her breath, and then promptly downed about half the glass of water. When she had recovered enough, she stood up straight and waited for someone to talk.

“Would you care to tell us what happened, Violet?” Dumbledore asked. He was calm in his approach, and his voice remained as impartial as it could.

“You know exactly what happened, Professor, you just want to know how it happened and if I had any help,” she replied coolly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sirius twitch a little.

“Did you have any help?”

“No, sir,” she lied.

“Nobody suggested what you should do? Or help with the timing of going to get to Harry?”

“No. Nobody did. Is it so hard to believe I did this on my own?”

“Of course not, dear girl, I’m merely trying to figure out how you slipped out from under Remus’ nose so easily.”

“Out my bedroom window, sir, while he was still recovering from the full moon,” Violet said.

“Gen, I’m sorry…” Remus sighed. “I had a feeling something was off in the morning - if I could have gotten to her quicker-”

“Remus, this isn’t your fault,” Genevive insisted. “It’s not on you. She betrayed your vulnerability - that’s completely unacceptable.”

“Is now a good time to mention how Uncle Remus grabbed me and screamed in my face not half an hour ago?” Violet asked. Immediately, Genevive and Thomas’ heads snapped towards Remus, affronted. “My arms still ache, he was quite rough. Oh! And he tried to use the Body Binding curse too, while me and Harry were running from him.”

“Remus!” Genevive’s voice went shrill. “You didn’t-”

“Gen - I didn’t mean to - I would  _ never _ intentionally hurt Violet, I swear!” In his frustration, Lupin was clutching at his hair.

“She’s  _ fifteen, _ don’t you  _ ever _ do that again!” Thomas raised his voice at his friend. That took Violet aback; she didn’t even know her father could shout.

“As much as it pains me to say this, but we must deal with these grievances later,” Dumbledore said, his eyes narrowing as he looked over at Remus. Nobody was impressed with him; a small victory for Violet. “Violet, you must understand the risk you could have put the Order, should anything you told Harry have fallen onto the wrong ears. I believe I did ask you  _ not _ to speak to Harry about this too.”

“You asked but you never made me promise anything,” Violet told him. “Therefore I had nobody’s word to break. I’m guilt free. You swore Hermione and Ron to secrecy, didn’t you?”

It went very quiet in the kitchen after that, as Dumbledore mulled over his error. Violet took the opportunity of silence to look around the room and see how everyone else was reacting.

Her parents were ashamed - of course they were - but Mr and Mrs Weasley appeared to be pitying her. Pitying Harry. Bill was doing everything not to look at her, and she wondered if he was trying not to laugh with the way he was tightly keeping his mouth shut. Snape still remained with his permanent sneer, Moody was scowling at Violet, the black man who she didn’t know wasn’t showing any emotion, the lady with the pink hair was trying not to giggle, Lupin looked like he wanted to end his life, and Sirius - well, he stared at the table, refusing to make eye contact with anybody.

“We can’t have her near the Order,” Moody growled. “Too risky.”

“Miss Merryworth also just admitted to  _ running _ from Remus,” the unnamed man said. When Violet turned to him with a raised eyebrow, he inclined his head half in apology. “Kingsley Shacklebolt. As much as I admire your courage, you clearly knew what you were doing was wrong to some degree.”

“You can’t blame her for wanting to help her friend,” said the lady with pink hair. When everyone else stared at her in disbelief, she shrugged. “Yes, it might be risky keeping Violet here at headquarters, but she clearly cares and has a good heart.”

“I like her,” Violet said. “She gets it.”

“Tonks, now isn’t the time to side with a delinquent,” Snape sneered at the other woman. “Why are we even allowing Miss Merryworth to remain here at all?”

“The rest of us need to be here, Severus,” Thomas said. “I’m not leaving my daughter on her own in Guildford.”

“Agreed,” Genevive said. “Sirius, there’s a spare room right at the top of the house, isn’t there?”

He looked up. “Hmm? Oh. Yes. There is. Violet’s welcome to it. I think there’s a bathroom attached to it, too.”

“Good. Because she’ll be staying in there until the appeal. She can come out for meals, but she’s not to interact with her friends. She needs to learn her lesson,” Genevive carried on. “It’s the only way to ensure she can be kept near the Order and not be tempted to spy.”

“You can’t keep her from her friends, she’s just a girl-” Lupin was suddenly horrified by his friend’s choice of punishment.

“Then I’ll treat her like one.” As she got up and started making her way over to Violet, Harry protectively stood in front of his friend.

“Mrs Merryworth, please-”

“Harry, I know what you’re about to say. It doesn’t matter whether she did it with good intentions - the point is, she made our family an embarrassment - and now I have to regain the trust of the Order,” she told him gently, but her eyes suggested nothing but coldness.

“But-”

“It’s fine,” Violet said from behind him, stepping out and standing next to her mother. “It’s fine.” She then turned to everyone in the room. “I’m - I’m sorry, for what I did.”

Genevive then took Violet’s hand in her own and started leading her daughter out of the room and up several flights of stairs. They were walking quickly, and it didn’t go amiss to Violet that Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had scurried back into their rooms on the first floor as soon as they heard their approach. She kept her head down, and tried to ignore the fact that Harry was running up the stairs and calling after them.

“Mrs Merryworth - you can’t-”

“It’s for the best, Harry, now go to your other friends,” Genevive called over her shoulder.

They got to the very top floor and entered the room that had the open door. It smelt old, but it was cleaner than the rest of the house. Genevive slammed the door shut.

“How is this for the best?!” Violet immediately argued.

“Because you need to be taught a lesson - you clearly can’t be trusted with sensitive information! Not yet, at least.”

“So keeping me locked away is the best choice?”

“For now, yes.”’

“Your Oaks side is coming out, mum,” Violet murmured.

“Don’t make me use the Tongue Tying Curse on you ag-”

“Make you?!” she screeched. “You  _ chose _ to do that! You didn’t have to, but you did! It doesn’t matter how much bigotry and hatred you unlearned, you  _ can’t _ ignore blood! All this is doing is proving you’re  _ cold, _ mum. You’re just showing the Order you can be cold and cruel!”

“Cold and cruel, that’s how you’re going to describe me?”

“Because that’s what you’re being! You were meant to be on my side-”

“I was until you ran away! I was until the moment you decided that your friendship was above a brewing war! Because that’s what this is really all about - preparing for another war!” Genevive shouted back, her nostrils flaring.

“I gathered it was about that, but Harry’s the centre of it! He should have known from the start! Why can’t  _ anybody _ see that?!”

“That doesn’t matter - it wasn’t up to you to do something that risky! And now you can pay for it by staying in there, doing as you’re told, and getting through the appeal - which, by the way, you and I  _ will _ be practicing for.”

Violet’s shoulders slumped, her bottom lip trembling as tears brimmed in her eyes once again. “I don’t - I don’t want to spend time with you doing that. Not while you’re being a - a -”

“Say it, darling, I know you want to.”

“Not while you’re being a  _ bitch. _ ”

“Good. I don’t want to spend time with you while you’re being a brat.”

That was the last thing Genevive said to Violet before storming out. Violet took off her backpack and sank down to the floor. She leaned against the bed, her mind racing and her hands clapped over her mouth to stop herself from crying out entirely.

“You can have one minute,” she then heard her mother say. Harry darted into the room and skidded down onto the floor next to her on his knees.

Immediately, he wrapped his arms around her as she started to cry into his chest, her entire body wracked with silent sobs. Violet wasn’t sure if she regretted doing what she did, but a strong part of her told her it had been the right thing to do. It had gotten Harry to Grimmauld Place sooner rather than later. She’d saved him and his cousin from a Dementor attack. It had been worth it.

“I heard everything, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll try to find time to speak with you, somehow, okay?”

“Don’t get in trouble for me-”

“I won’t. I’ll find a way. Let me try, okay?” he insisted, standing up. “I should go, before…”

Violet nodded, watching with sadness as Harry backed out of the room, worried. The moment he was out, the door shut and locked itself, leaving her well and truly alone.

Maybe the entire thing had been stupid. Maybe it hadn’t been worth it, because now she was separated from Harry and her friends until she got through the appeal at the Ministry. She thought back to the two months she’d isolated herself from her friends at school and that just made the tears fall ever stronger. She couldn’t go through that again - especially not forced.

Violet didn’t know how long she’d been sitting on the floor, but eventually her father came in with her trunk and Astra.

“Your mum went and made sure everything was packed up,” Thomas said quietly, leaving them in the corner. He shut the door and came to sit next to her, putting an arm around her. Violet hastily wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry, dad,” she whispered.

“I expected it,” he admitted. “Ever since Dumbledore told you that you shouldn’t speak to Harry, I knew that stubborn streak of yours would come through and you’d do something -  _ anything _ \- to make sure your friend knew what he needed to know.”

She frowned up at him. His face was soft. “I know. Your mum and I were always on your side in this, but even if you had asked, we wouldn’t have been able to do anything without getting in trouble ourselves. She believed you’d remain sensible… but I feel like your ever so slightly troublesome escapades with your friends have possibly influenced you.”

Violet couldn’t help but giggle, and Thomas smiled. “That’s my girl.” He then dug around in the pocket of his trousers. “Here, I’ve got something for you.”

He handed an envelope to her: whatever was inside gave it some weight, and it was addressed to her. The ink was still damp enough to smudge slightly.

“I know she’s gone too far, but promise me you won’t call your mother a bitch again?” he then asked her seriously.

She nodded. “Promise.”

“And you’ll apologise to her about it once you’ve both cooled off?”

“Yes, of course I will.”

“Good. And if I can, I’ll send your reply down to them,” he carried on, gesturing to the envelope.

“This is from my friends?” Violet was gobsmacked.

“Indeed. They know they shouldn’t talk to you, so I think they’re trying to find a loophole - like you and the fact Dumbledore never got you to swear an oath or promise anything.” Thomas winked at her and stood up. “Lunch is in half an hour, I can come and get you.”

“I’m not hungry, dad, but thank you,” she said quietly, staring down at the envelope. Any form of appetite she might have had today completely disappeared after the Tongue Tying Curse.

“Come down for dinner, at least,” he told her.

“I don’t want to be around mum right now.”

He nodded in understanding, but he was a touch upset too. “I’ll bring dinner up for you later.”

“Thanks, dad,” Violet said, and he left her be. The door locked itself again once he was gone.

She finally kicked off her shoes and jacket, electing to hop up onto the bed and get comfy there; after all, she was going to be subject to two and a half weeks of this. She couldn’t stay on the floor forever.

Once settled on the bed, Violet tore open the envelope, where multiple letters fell out.

_ Violet, _

_ You’re mad. Bloody brilliant, but mad. I’ll keep an ear out and if nobody’s around, I’ll come sit by the door if you want. We can chat. I can tell you more about Quidditch that way, try and make up for the fact we can’t play it this summer... _

_ Ron _

Bold, but sweet. She smiled.

_ Vi, _

_ We’re seventeen now. We’ll come up for a couple of games of Exploding Snap when your parents aren’t looking. _

_ Fred & George _

Well, that definitely piqued her interest, but she didn’t want them to get into trouble because of her…

_ Violet, _

_ We weren’t meant to tell Harry anything! Dumbledore swore Ron and I to secrecy, but what about you? You never usually break your word… I don’t know, I need to get the finer details out of Harry… I hope you’re alright though. We heard most of what happened when your mum brought you up… _

_ Hermione _

Ever the most logical one. Violet had to resist rolling her eyes when she got the little slap on the wrist from her friend there.

_ Vi, _

_ You’ve got to tell me everything when you’re allowed to see us again. And I’ve got to train you up for Quidditch in return for all that information. Never thought I’d see the day you would do something that mental! _

_ Ginny _

Now that  _ was _ a welcome surprise. After all her worrying about it the previous year, Violet was pleased to see that yes - she could definitely be friends with Ginny.

_ Vi, _

_ I still can’t thank you enough, but you shouldn’t be getting punished like this. It’s not fair. I’ll sneak up to see you when I can - I don’t care if I get in trouble for it. I’d do it for you. _

_ Harry _

That was the one that she clutched to her chest and then tucked it away inside one of the Muggle books she had in her suitcase. The rest of the letters went back into the envelope and sat on the nightstand. She moved Astra’s cage to sit atop the tiny little table by the window.

“It’s just you and me for a bit. Sorry about that,” Violet said to the owl, who hooted indignantly in response. “I know, I know… but it’s Harry. You like him. If I hadn’t gotten caught, it would have all been fine.”

Astra hooted more enthusiastically, and Violet smiled.

“At least we have each other for company…”

She spent the rest of the day reading. For the time being, she wanted to push the letters to the back of her mind and not think about all the various ways she could break rules again. Violet had no desire to anger anybody else so soon.

As promised, Thomas brought dinner up to her and tried to linger to give her company; on seeing that Violet wasn’t feeling talkative, he left her be.

What didn’t help the start of the lonesome period was the fact she could hear her friends talking in the bedroom below her one. It led to her lying down with her ear pressed against the floor, listening to them natter away. It was hard to make out everything they were saying, but it was clear that Harry was a little snappy with the others in regards to how he’d been kept in the dark for half the summer about everything.

A knock on the door around nine o’clock had her jumping to her feet.

“Yes?” she called out.

Lupin walked in, with two cups of something hot. Her shoulders sagged when she saw it was him, and she seated herself at the desk. He sighed quietly as he walked over to her, placing one of the steaming cups down next to her.

“Cinnamon hot chocolate,” he said. “I believe that’s your preference.”

Stubbornly, she didn’t say anything or look at him. She didn’t even make a move for the beverage that had the most enticing smell.

“I was wrong, earlier, with all of it,” Lupin carried on quietly. “I shouldn’t have tried to hex you, and I certainly shouldn’t have acted the way I did and hurt you in the process, even if it was an accident. I definitely shouldn’t have tried to side against you in the first place. Still no excuse, really.”

Violet kept her mouth shut.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl, I really am. You did a brave thing for your friend. Was it stupid? Yes. But it was brave all the same.”

“Why were you in my room in the first place?” she finally asked him, taking the cup of hot chocolate and sipping cautiously from it.

“I knocked and wanted to make sure you were okay. I couldn’t hear any movement so I went in. You weren’t there. I was able to put two and two together, then found the address.”

“Right.”

“Gen’s overreacting about all this. You having to go defend yourself is punishment enough.”

“You and dad seem to be the only ones who think so.”

“Tonks is on your side, as is Sirius. Frankly, I think even Dumbledore is too. You’re a teenager, it should have been expected.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better about being shut up here away from my friends-”

“And I’m trying my best to convince Gen otherwise on that. Thomas is too.”

“Why are you apologising  _ now _ ?”

“Because I’ve calmed down from earlier on. I hoped you would have done the same. Perhaps I was mistaken.”

She turned to him. “I am calm, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to magically stop being upset. The hot chocolate is a good start though, so thank you for that.”

“Naturally,” he said quietly. “Well, I’ll leave you be for the night. Breakfast is at seven o’clock for you for the time being. Gen doesn’t want you mixing with the others. Good night, Violet.”

“Of course she doesn’t…” Violet muttered bitterly, watching out of the corner of her eye as he left the room. She was already far too used to the sound of it locking, and didn’t like the idea of becoming comfortable with it. “Night, Remus…”

Violet looked out the window across London. The city was still so vibrant and full of life despite it being a midweek night and she wondered if she would ever get to experience that in a safer world. A world where there wasn’t a war raging on and she could have some semblance of normality with her friends, and do what teenagers were supposed to do outside of school.

She wondered if one day in the future she’d have a place in both the magical and Muggle world, and do what was considered normal on both sides. Violet wasn’t usually an idealist, but the idea of being surrounded by the same four walls for two and a half weeks was definitely giving her some unusual thoughts as she stared out that window.

It seemed silly to think of it now when it was so uncertain, but Violet thought of wandering those bright, night time streets with Harry. Enjoying themselves. Not a single care in the world.

Suddenly the hot chocolate felt cold in her hands.


	52. Summer, 1995: Grimmauld Place Part II

Trying to get used to being in the same house as her friends but separated from them proved difficult for Violet. Every morning she would have to be up before them to have breakfast under the supervision of at least one member of the Order. Usually that would be Mrs Weasley, since she had a habit of sorting out breakfast for everyone.

The first couple of days, Mrs Weasley attempted conversation with Violet, but the girl couldn’t bring herself to say anything back. She’d open her mouth and nothing would come out, so she sank down in her seat and ate her breakfast in silence while reading a book under the woman’s watchful eye. She’d end up having to be out of the kitchen and back in her room before eight o’clock, when the others would be coming down.

Violet took to sitting at her door in the mornings with her ear pressed against it, trying her best to listen out for her friends - listening out for any sneaking footsteps to come up to her room and at least  _ try _ and communicate with her. There wasn’t any such luck the first few days, but on day six a mysterious note was slipped under her door.

She’d been sitting on her bed reading in the middle of the afternoon when it came through. Frowning, Violet went and picked it up.

_ Kitchen at eleven tonight. Don’t worry about the door. We’ve got it covered. _

_ Fred & George _

Her eyes widened. What the hell were they planning? And whatever it was - she sincerely hoped none of them got caught.

A knock on the door had her hurrying to pocket the note. “Come - come in,” she said, a little flustered. Genevive walked in after unlocking the door, and Violet tried not to let the disappointment show. “Oh! Hi - hi mum. What - what’s wrong?”

She’d barely seen her mother since their argument, and even though that was down to the fact she still had to work, Violet still hadn’t expected to see her until much closer to the hearing.

“Nothing, darling, I thought we should go over a few questions you might be asked at the Ministry, and how you should answer them,” Genevive replied, immediately heading for the chair. Violet ended up sitting cross legged on her bed, facing her mother. “We’ve had plenty of time to cool off.”

“I suppose so,” she mumbled in response.

“Now, I know you get nervous talking in front of a lot of people, so I’m warning you now that the Wizengamot is made up of fifty witches and wizards. You’ll need to be able to speak with confidence.”

“Right.”

“You  _ cannot _ get shy here, Violet,” Genevive shot her a pointed look, which made the girl bite her lip. “I know it’s hard not to go bright red-”

“ _ Mum! _ ”

“Fine - fine. We’ll get straight into it, then?”

“Yes please,” Violet’s voice was strained.

“Answer all these questions as honestly as possible. It’ll start off simple, and get more leading as we go on.”

Violet nodded.

“Why were you in Little Whinging?”

“Visiting a friend.”

“Who was the friend?”

“Harry Potter.”

“Good - good - there could be a point here where they’ll ask you  _ why _ you were visiting Harry. That is where you’ll have to lie, because the Ministry cannot know about the Order. Understood?”

“Yes, mum.” She really didn’t like the intense stare that Genevive was giving her right now. It didn’t feel like her mother; it felt like a different person entirely.

“Good. So why were you visiting Harry Potter?”

“I hadn’t seen him in a while,” Violet said. Technically, that was the truth. “He was meant to come to my house for his birthday, but we had to cancel that… so I visited him a week later.”

“And why did you-”

“I can’t. Mum, I’m sorry, I can’t deal with this version of you!” The words slipped out of Violet’s mouth before she could stop herself. Genevive was taken aback. “This is the version of you that everyone sees at work, isn’t it? The responsible, no-nonsense Auror?”

“You need to practice-”

Violet shook her head, jumping off the bed and going to open the door. “I know I do, but when I see my mum - I want it to be my mum. Not the Auror Genevive Merryworth.”

A flicker of hurt crossed Genevive’s eyes, but she still rose from her seat all the same and made her way over to the door. She stopped and stared down at her daughter.

“You’re more like me than you realise, Violet.”

“I know which ways I’m like you and which ways I’m not,” she replied. “If I had children, I wouldn’t do this to them. It doesn’t matter that you were an Oaks, because I reject that entirely and want to be better.”

Genevive left and slammed the door without another word.

The next time Violet saw her mother was when she brought dinner up - because yes, Violet only ever left her room for breakfast. Shifting the other meal times proved more difficult, and Genevive was insistent that Violet spend no time with her friends whatsoever.

She hated it. She’d never been forced to be alone before. There was enjoying her own company and this - it felt all too similar to when she avoided her friends at Hogwarts for those two months in her fourth year, but it was far, far worse. None of the adults came to see her either, and Violet wondered if her mother had something to do with that. She wondered if her father was being kept from her, because it didn’t seem like him at all to simply abandon her like that.

She watched the clock for the rest of the day, reading and re-reading the note that had been slipped under her door by Fred and George. They must have figured something good out if that was the only time they could get her down to the kitchen.

Once she was in her pyjamas by nine o’clock that evening, another note was fed under her door. This time it was a drawing of all the staircases in number twelve with labels to identify the steps that would make noise if touched. Not to mention, there was a portrait of Sirius’ mother that screamed bloody murder if she was woken up.

Violet immediately began to memorise the drawing. She couldn’t risk anything.

To her surprise, when eleven o’clock rolled around, it wasn’t Fred and George that let her out.

“Sirius?!” Violet hissed, her eyes widening at the sight of the man before her. “I thought-”

“They’re already downstairs,” he told her quietly. “Come on.”

She followed him down the several flights of stairs, being sure to go on tiptoe and avoid the creaky steps so that she didn’t wake anybody up. They didn’t say a word to one another until they were down in the kitchen, where Harry, Fred and George were anxiously awaiting them at the table.

Violet immediately made a beeline for one another, and she threw her arms around her best friend. It didn’t matter it had only been six days - it had been six days without seeing anybody she liked the company of.

“Anyone would think Harry nearly died,” Fred quipped when Violet gave him a hug.

“Only if the Dementor had gotten to him,” George added as Violet went to him.

“Not that I don’t appreciate this, but why? What if we get caught?” she asked them all, worried, as they sat at the table.

“We won’t get caught,” Sirius insisted. “It was their idea,” he then said, gesturing to the twins. “Apparently they’re excellent mischief makers.”

“Figured you’d want some company, and Harry was being really mopey while we were cleaning today,” George said. The boy in question was affronted.

“Hey!”

Violet just giggled. “I can believe it.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her.

“Besides, we’ve been using Extendable Ears to try and figure out if your mum was gonna get someone to keep watch on your room at night,” Fred said. “It seems that she forgot we were seventeen.”

“To be fair, I don’t think my mum knew what year you were in at Hogwarts. She never asked me,” Violet replied. “Anyway, it’s nice to be out of that room.”

“Fresh air is always good for the soul - as fresh it can get in this place,” Sirius said, staring around the kitchen in disdain. He hated it here, and it took a lot to hide that fact every single day.

“Oi - we’re trying our best,” Fred told him.

“What?” Violet was confused.

“Mum’s been getting us all to clean up around the house.”

“That explains why the three of you look shattered,” she noted, glancing between her friends. “And still, here you are. Thank you.”

“We thought you could use the company,” Sirius said.

“Not that I don’t like you being here with us, Sirius, but… why are  _ you _ here with these three?”

“Adult supervision. And I wanted to see what my godson was making a fuss about,” he replied with a wink. Violet turned to Harry briefly, who pretended as if he had no idea what Sirius was on about. Meanwhile, Fred and George were coughing to hide laughs.

“You lived in my house…” Violet said to Sirius, carefully.

“I know, but I didn’t see you all that much. Thought this might be a good opportunity to actually talk to you.”

Harry winced. “Violet usually talks more when me and her are alone…”

“Shall we leave you two to it then?”

“No,” they both said at the same time. Sirius held back a smile, as if they had given him the answer he wanted.

“You don’t usually get into trouble, do you Violet?” he then asked her.

“Apart from when she hexed Dexter Oaks,” George said. “Lost us fifty house points on the first day.”

Sirius was clearly impressed. “You hexed your cousin?”

“Non-verbally,” Harry added.

“He was being rude…” Violet murmured. “Called mum a blood traitor and made jabs about Remus. He fully deserved it.”

“Too right. He was a bully,” Fred said. “At least we won’t have to put up with him this year!”

“That’s true - I forgot he would have left now… although…” A pit formed in her stomach. If Willmott was a Death Eater already, and that only took a year of him being out of school… would that mean Dexter was going the same way?

“What?” George asked.

“He might be a Death Eater now…” Harry explained, catching onto where Violet’s train of thought had left off. “Or at least, he will be soon.”

“He’s not,” Sirius said. “Not yet. Well on the way though. Thomas and Gen have been on their trail. We tried to… take her off of it because of how personal it would be to her, but Thomas insisted. He wouldn’t back down.”

“Mum said something before the summer - she basically doesn’t want him to fall completely to the Death Eaters. Is she hoping too much?”

Sirius sighed, a strained look on his face. “I don’t know. Hope is all we can have, Violet.”

Before their conversation could continue, voices at the top of the stairs that led down into the kitchen startled them.

“It’s mum,” Violet hissed. “And Remus!”

Sirius jumped up and grabbed Harry and Violet, directing them towards a pantry at the back of the kitchen. He crudely shoved them in there and shut the door before hurrying back to sit at the table.

“What are you all doing up?” Genevive’s voice came suspiciously.

“Talking,” Sirius said, calmly. “We all intended to get a hot drink at the same time - as you can see, that idea was long forgotten…”

“I expect Fred and George were filling you in on their mischievous ways at Hogwarts that rivalled our own?” Lupin asked, and Sirius chuckled.

“Precisely.”

In an effort to get more comfortable, Violet shifted her weight and nearly fell. She knocked the wall behind her in the process with a soft thud. Harry grabbed hold of her so she didn’t topple over entirely.

“What was that?” Lupin asked.

“What was what?” Genevive clearly hadn’t heard.

Being in the pantry with Harry was a mildly claustrophobic experience that Violet could have gone without.

It didn’t matter to either of them that they were holding onto each other right now in fear of being caught. They could hear footsteps getting closer and closer to the pantry door, which made the pair of them tense up.

“Thought I heard something in there,” came Lupin’s voice.

“Probably a rat,” Sirius replied coolly.

“There’s room for a joke there,” Violet whispered to Harry, and he merely opted to clamp his hand over her mouth.

“Naturally,” Lupin said, his footsteps finally stopping outside the pantry door. The teens could see the silhouette of just underneath the door, and suddenly it swung open.

The pair of them stared at him bug eyed, and he pursed his lips. The silence between the three of them in that compromising position was unfathomable. Harry and Violet were eternally grateful for the fact that Lupin was tall and therefore blocked them from anyone else’s view.

“Well, Remus?” Genevive asked. “Anything there?”

“Nothing,” he said, shutting the door, leaving the pair of them to relax. “It was either a rat or the pipes. Who knows, really?”

“We should head to bed… I’m sure Thomas has been worried sick about me.”

“Then send a Patronus next time, like I suggested… good night Sirius, Fred, George.”

He headed to the other side of the kitchen, and Harry lowered his hand from Violet’s mouth.

“Yes…” Genevive agreed softly. “Good night boys. I trust that Violet is still secure?”

“Obviously,” Sirius said. “Molly checked on the door a couple of hours ago.”

“I’ll give Molly my thanks tomorrow.”

“Don’t. Molly dislikes doing that when you’re not here,” he said, a darker tone in his voice. “I’d suggest you get home on time.”

Genevive didn’t utter another word as she and Lupin left the kitchen.

Sirius came and let them out after several minutes - waiting to be sure that his friends were gone - where they breathed sighs of relief, going to join him, Fred, and George back at the kitchen table.

“That was a close call,” he remarked.

“Worth it,” Violet said. “I think Remus regrets how he acted with me the other day.”

“Do you forgive him?”

“Not yet. But I’m heading that way. He won’t mention this to mum at all, I can tell you that much.”

“He’s advocating for you not to be locked up in there,” Sirius told her. “They argue a lot - him and Thomas against Genevive. She keeps refusing. Are you sure you don’t get your stubbornness from your mother?”

Violet chuckled. “I’m sure. Dad’s usually the hard one to convince. I suppose this time the only reason it’s mum is because… well, I compared her to her family. She didn’t like that at all. It was a step too far.”

“So is shutting you away,” Harry pointed out.

“Honestly, Vi, I thought your mum was cool at first. But now…” Fred was shaking his head.

“Oh Freddie, she’s still cool. Just really annoying,” George said.

“Thanks guys.” There was no sarcasm there - Violet genuinely appreciated the fact her friends were on her side. “I can’t believe it’s only been six days. Twelve to go.”

“We’ll sort something out before then,” Sirius insisted. “Trust me, we will. I’m not having you punished for that long for something that was effectively me encouraging your bold and bad ideas.”

“Thanks,” she smiled at him. “You know… how did you and Remus become friends with mum? I asked him once, but he said that was a story for another time.”

“It was quite simple, really,” Sirius began. “He showed up to Defence Against the Dark Arts early in first year - before we were properly,  _ properly _ friends - and made friends with one Genevive Oaks. He’d noticed she was a bit of a loner in classes, and learned about how her siblings were beginning to reject her for placing in Ravenclaw. He was her only friend for some time. Wormtail tried to get close, but… Gen had no interest in him. James and I would spend time with her where we could, but more often than not our group of four stayed a group of four.

“Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas befriended her by our second year. Gen was definitely out of place in Ravenclaw because of her family name - nobody wanted to go near her - and it was all because of Remus that she even found friends. Interestingly enough, Snape was good friends with Lily and by default with Gen.”

“Wait - Snape was friends with my mum?” Harry asked, and Sirius nodded in disgust.

“He eventually showed his true colours…” he murmured. “But yes. Snape was friends with Gen up until that point. After that, he was… in with a different crowd.”

“Death Eaters,” Violet said. “Snape was a Death Eater. We know - you don’t have to sugar coat that much.”

“Alright. So that happened. He broke off from Lily and Gen in our fifth year… either way, Gen had started dating Thomas that year and even when he finished school they stayed together while he trained to be a Healer. Remus inspired bravery in your mother, Violet, much in the same way your friends inspire bravery in you. If he hadn’t sat down next to her that day in first year, I believe she would have remained on a lonely path.”

“I didn’t realise you knew her that well.”

“I didn’t. Remus was the one who was closest to her. Lily too. This is everything I found out from Remus after she and Thomas were married. I think… on some level, he was worried about her. He wanted someone else to understand her outside of himself, Thomas, and Lily.”

“But… that day in the Hospital Wing - what my dad said-”

“Thomas hardly knew me. He only really knew me in the context of being friends with Remus,” Sirius explained. “I know James and I regret not spending as much time with Gen as we could at school - but it seemed better for her that she was with Remus and Lily anyway.”

Violet nodded, sinking down in her chair. There was a heaviness in her heart about the way she’d spoken to her mother recently, and it was clear that Sirius could read it on her face too.

“Don’t feel bad about how you’ve acted, Violet,” Sirius told her. “It may have been nasty if you pointed out the similarities between her and her family, but she had no right to do any of this to you.”

“You’ve unsettled her, Vi, that’s for sure,” George said. “She doesn’t seem right when we’ve seen her at dinner.”

“I think she’s reconsidering,” Fred said. “She’s got to be.”

“And if she’s not, I want to try and convince her,” Harry said.

“No, Harry, that’s not your place-”

“It is,” he cut across her. “I think I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. It was my choice,” she said, slyly gripping his hand under the table.

“And this is  _ mine, _ ” he insisted. “Let me try - let me come to the trial. I can be a witness-”

“Not with what the Ministry currently believes about you,” Violet told him with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve always admired your nobility Harry, but really that’s a more stupid idea than me running away to Little Whinging in the middle of the night.”

George suddenly yawned, as did Fred.

“As much as we admire a bit of romanticism-”

“We’re pretty tired-”

“But this was fun!”

“Definitely gotta sneak you out again,” Fred concluded with a wink as he and his twin rose from the table.

“Night everyone,” they chimed at the same time before heading up and out of the kitchen.

“You two should probably head back to bed too,” Sirius said as he stood up. “I doubt the pantry was an enjoyable experience.”

“We could go without it again,” Violet said, with Harry humming in agreement.

“Also - my idea about coming to the Ministry wasn’t  _ that _ stupid,” the boy then said with a frown. Violet didn’t say anything and just chuckled as they followed Sirius out of the kitchen. The three of them turned to silence as they wandered up to the top of the house. It was only when they were right outside of Violet’s door did they speak again.

Sirius eyed the pair of them oddly and turned his back, opting to admire the bannister instead.

“Subtle…” Violet gestured with her head and they stepped into the threshold of the room.

“Do you think he-”

“No idea,” she cut across him quickly, not exactly wanting to go into  _ that _ sort of conversation again. “The four of you are idiots.”

“We didn’t get caught though, unlike  _ someone _ I know,” Harry said with a small smirk.

“Stop that,” she said, batting him on the arm.

“Stop what?” The smirk was becoming more pronounced.

“That - doing that with your face,” Violet said, pointing at his mouth. She started getting flustered, and tried her best not to end up in a fit of giggles.

“Why? What’s wrong with what I’m doing?”

“I’ll just like you more if you do that.”

He shrugged, folding his arms and leaned against the doorway. “I think that’s the point.”

It took a moment for it to click together in her head. “Are - are you trying to flirt? I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I can’t. Neither can you. One of us has to try it sometime.”

She shook her head, a grin coming onto her face. “I don’t think either of us need it. It’s not very you. It’s better when you’re awkward around me.”

“Fine.” He turned serious for a moment. “I’ll drop a note under your door when I can.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I don’t want you to be alone. I’ve seen what happens when you are. We all have.”

Violet didn’t say anything - she  _ couldn’t _ say anything, save for being overwhelmingly touched by the sentiment. Instead she wordlessly gave Harry a quick hug. “Good night,” she muttered.

“Good night, Vi,” he said to her softly.

Harry pulled away from her a little too quickly, just as she shut the door behind him too quickly. She pressed an ear against it, listening as Sirius sent Harry off to bed and put the enchantments back on her door.

“I know I tease…” Sirius’ voice floated through to Violet, making her jump. “But for goodness’ sake - I can see how you look at each other.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Violet tried to brush it off with a weak lie.

“The pair of you need to stop being so awkward. I don’t know what’s happened since you and I talked about this back in February, but… he’s spoken about you a lot in the past week. Good night, Violet.”

“Good night, Sirius.”

Violet ended up not being able to sleep properly that night, because she hated to admit it but Sirius did have a point. They were very awkward around each other for the most part, except she was going to be holding onto that until she either next got a sneaky night time visit from her friends or was done with the trial.

It was the only thing that kept her from getting too upset at the next six days of isolation. A quick note from Harry had slipped under her door explaining that Mrs Weasley was really making sure they worked on getting number twelve spotless from top to bottom. Not to mention getting hold of Sirius was difficult too because of that.

Regardless, she ended up crying most nights because of how much she missed her friends and it hurt because she could hear them whenever they were on the floor below.

At least she’d had some time with Harry. For that, Violet was grateful in the very least.


	53. Summer, 1995: Grimmauld Place Part III

Thomas and Lupin came to keep Violet company on one of the days. She’d stop bothering to keep track at this point, being surrounded by the same four walls.

“Your mum won’t budge,” Thomas said to her. The three of them were all sipping from cups of tea, sitting cross legged on her bed. “We’re trying our best.”

“I take it the ‘we’ is referring to you two?” Violet asked.

“Actually, Molly’s trying to make a case for you,” Lupin said, matter of factly. “She’s angry with Gen.”

“Which is highly amusing since the two of them barely know each other. Unfortunately, Gen doesn’t care,” Thomas added. Violet nodded, and started running her finger around the rim of her teacup in deep thought.

“How are my friends?” she then asked.

“They’re fine, for the most part. I think Harry’s still a little irritated with Ron and Hermione for being so secretive… but he’s also… tetchy,” Thomas explained carefully, looking to Lupin as if to confirm that that was the right word choice.

“Tetchy?”

Lupin sighed. “From what  _ I’ve _ been able to catch, he’s beginning to think it’s his fault that you got into so much trouble. And, what with the  _ Daily Prophet _ spouting off lies about him and Dumbledore… when you’re allowed to talk to him, you should. I don’t know if the others have asked how he’s feeling.”

Violet stared down at her half empty teacup, wishing she hadn’t been careless enough to even get caught by Lupin in the first place, nor be in the position of having to go appeal her use of underage magic. It’d been obvious that Harry had been feeling some kind of loneliness that summer with nobody being able to tell him anything, and Violet giving him a shred of hope meant that her current separation had probably knocked him sideways a little.

“That was the plan anyway,” she murmured, taking a drink from the cup and stopping in her toying with it. “I dread to think what’s going through his mind right now.”

“I know, darling, you’ll just have to hold out for a bit longer, I’m afraid,” Thomas said sadly. “She’s adamant you’re to see this through.”

“What even possessed her to do this?” Violet asked with a frown. “I still don’t understand it.”

“She’s always had an extreme streak in her, and she’s never had to punish you for anything before. She feels like some of her encouragement towards you being open has completely backfired on her because of you running off to Little Whinging.”

“That’s nothing to do with her though!” she replied in frustration. “That’s more to do with -” Violet cut herself off, not wanting to expose  _ too _ many of her inner thoughts surrounding Harry. She had suspicion from Sirius already, she didn’t need it from her father nor did she want more comments from Lupin on the subject.

Unfortunately for her, the latter was well on his way to doing just that. “Exceptional dynamism,” Lupin said quietly. “That’s not faded since the pair of you discovered it, has it?”

“It hasn’t,” Violet said. “Anyway - that’s not what this conversation is about. If either of you are about to tell me that once all this over I should forgive her, that’s going to be a long time away. I still haven’t forgiven Remus properly for the other week!”

“Neither of us were going to ask you to do that, love,” Thomas told her. “Take as much time as you need.” Lupin nodded in agreement, albeit put out by the fact she hadn’t actually entirely forgiven him for his past transgressions. “Look, I need to head into St Mungo’s for a bit-”

“It’s a Saturday-”

“And they’re short on people.” Thomas rose from the bed and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Violet’s head. “I’ll be back for dinner. Do you want some company this evening?”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. This afternoon’s been nice though, thanks.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later.”

With that, Thomas left the pair alone. Lupin waited until he was definitely out of earshot before talking.

“I would ask why you and Harry were in the pantry the other night, but I can safely assume that was down to Sirius, Fred, and George?”

Violet’s cheeks glowed pink. “Thanks for not telling anybody.”

“You being in this situation is undeserved. Of course I wasn’t going to tell anyone. I think having to appeal in front of the Wizengamot is punishment enough, and Gen not seeing that is stupid.”

“You’re telling me,” she sighed.

“And just out of interest, is there any reason why you don’t want company at dinner time?”

Violet shrugged. “Because it’s not like you guys are my friends, is it? It’s always serious conversations with adults. It’d be too awkward and not what I want.”

“You’re going stir crazy on your own-”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” she said, exasperated. “But adults are  _ not _ what I want or need right now. Not for dinner company every day, anyway.”

He nodded in understanding, before fishing something out of his pocket. It was an envelope - ever so slightly crumpled - but when Lupin handed it to Violet, she blinked in surprise. She could recognise that handwriting anywhere.

“Your future boyfriend slipped it to me,” he teased.

Violet scowled at him. “You’re in no position to be making a joke like that, currently. And you could have given this to me in front of dad. He passed off a bunch of letters to me on day one.”

“I could have done, but I wouldn’t have been able to make that joke. Tom’s clueless, isn’t he?”

Lupin didn’t need to specify what her father was clueless about. It wasn’t something she felt entirely comfortable talking to him about - it was definitely more in the vein of conversation she would have with her mother. Although currently, she highly doubted they’d even talk about it again that summer, with how things were going…

Violet quickly opened the envelope.

_ It’s not the same without you. Cleaning up the house is nowhere near as fun. You would have had a great time with the Doxies the other day. Also - please do Quidditch tryouts this year? Ron and Ginny really want to get you on the pitch... _

_ Harry _

She held back a smile and folded the letter back up neatly before putting it on the bedside table. Lupin was looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Something nice?”

“Obviously,” Violet said with an eye roll. “I’m being told I should try out for Quidditch this year. Don’t tell dad that’s something I’m considering.”

Lupin raised an eyebrow at her, intrigued and amused. “Oh?”

“Ron’s idea. We started bonding a lot last year…”

“Ah. Well that’s good! Broaden your horizons a little…” He got off the bed, and held out his hand for her now empty cup. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.”

“There’s not really much to leave me to…”

“Your thoughts? Perhaps a book?” Lupin pointedly glanced at her desk, and she followed his gaze to find that at some point earlier on he’d left her another book. She shot him a tiny smile.

“Thanks,” she then said. “I think the rest of the day will pass nicely now.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that.”

He left her be without another word.

Violet’s shoulders sagged for a moment, her face dropping too. She hated being alone in here, something of which was only made worse by the fact she’d lost track of time. At least her dad and Lupin were on her side and completely understood why she would find it difficult to forgive her mum.

Regardless, she wandered over to her desk and started to read  _ Tess of d’Urbervilles, _ knowing that it would keep her out of her own head for a while at the very least - and it might stop the tears from falling in the evening too.

* * *

Despite all the hard work he’d been put to at Grimmauld Place in terms of making the place more livable rather than just simply habitable, Harry was enjoying being with his friends again, although he couldn’t keep Violet off his mind. It had been several nights since he’d seen her, and he couldn’t help but think she was feeling more than lonely after having a taste of freedom. It didn’t help that it was hard to catch Sirius or the twins on their own, but he was thankful for the fact he’d been able to pass off a note to Lupin to give to Violet.

Sirius was either always called away to Order meetings in the dining room, or Mrs Weasley would have Harry helping the others sort something else in the house. He’d been thankful for the fact he’d been able to catch Lupin on his own to slip him a letter to give to Violet. Other than that, the man was quite difficult to get a hold of anyway, since he was either with the Order, or just being generally quiet within the house.

So Harry counted his lucky stars that the seventh night since he’d seen Violet, he’d been unable to sleep from a stupid nightmare when he heard the loud voices drifting up from the hallway and disappearing down into the kitchen. Frowning, he put on his glasses and decided to go investigate.

He crept through the house, and the closer he got to the kitchen he realised that the raised voices came from Thomas and Genevive Merryworth, as well as Lupin. It sounded like they were arguing. Harry stopped a couple of steps before the closed kitchen door and listened.

“...She isn’t your daughter, Remus! You don’t get to tell us what to do!” Genevive snapped.

“You allowed me to be her uncle! She’s my  _ niece, _ and that’s the closest thing I’ll ever get to having a daughter!” Lupin retorted. “Besides, I was her teacher for a year too. There’s parts of her you don’t even know about because it’s not something she can tell you about - it’s something to be seen.”

“Are you suggesting I don’t know Violet?”

“Gen, I don’t think Remus is suggesting that at all,” Thomas sounded exasperated. “All he’s pointing out is there’s a whole other side of Violet’s life we don’t see because she’s at  _ school. _ Nothing to do with her being secretive or us not knowing her…”

“Thank you, Thomas…” Lupin was pleased that someone agreed with him.

“Besides, you saw how quiet she was until she made friends,” Thomas carried on. “She’s really come out of her shell a bit. I’ve told you time and time again that cutting her off from them isn’t going to help.”

“Tom, she disobeyed direct orders from Dumbledore and ran away!” Genevive was becoming shrill, and the pitch of her voice made Harry wince. “I know that Harry is a sweet boy, she speaks  _ so _ highly of him, but… it doesn’t matter who it is, I will not have Violet acting like that.”

“So shutting her away until the appeal was the best course of action?” Lupin asked. “Gen… I’ve seen her thrive with her friends. I’ve seen her be brave  _ because _ of her friends. It certainly took an act of bravery for her to sneak off into the night to tell Harry information that really - he should have known. And you agree there.”

“I know, I know…” Genevive sighed, and a chair scraped across the floor as she obviously sat down. “She did it for him, because yes - he should have known from the start. How do I know he would have done the same for my little girl?”

Tired of listening in, Harry walked into the kitchen to all of their surprise.

“Yes,” he told them. “I would have done the same for her.”

“Harry!” Whatever fire had been on Genevive’s face vanished immediately, and she shot him a smile that he knew Violet got from her. “Did we wake you up? How long have you been there?”

The expression on Lupin’s face was pained, whereas Thomas was definitely tired. Exhausted. Like he’d been having this conversation far too many times the past week and a bit.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Harry said, pulling up the chair next to Thomas. “I heard enough. And Mrs Merryworth-”

“Gen. Please,” she insisted.

“Right. Gen, I don’t think Violet told you about this, but her and I fell out for a couple of months.”

That was a shock to her and Thomas. Lupin sighed and finally sat down.

“It wasn’t bad, per say, but she was ashamed of what had happened and scared of losing us that she just… isolated herself until it took several people to convince the both of us to talk,” he continued. “Sometimes she thinks going back to be alone is a better idea, but from firsthand experience it’s not. Remus is right.”

“She told me about the falling out,” Lupin added. “She wanted her uncle’s advice. It was one of those sorts of problems.”

“You know when she’s stressed she-”

“Lets her hair down and can’t stop running her fingers through it?” Thomas finished, glancing across the table fondly at Genevive. “Oh, I know she gets her stubbornness from me, but that - that is Gen through and through.”

“And that period of time she wasn’t talking to me, Ron, or Hermione - I’ve never seen her more stressed. It hurts seeing one of your best friends like that.”

“Harry…” Genevive had softened entirely, reaching across the table to take hold of one of his hands. “You’ve been an absolutely wonderful addition to my daughter’s life, you know that right? But… she needed to learn a lesson.”

“And having to appeal in front of the Wizengamot wasn’t enough?” Thomas said. “Darling, I know how much you hate your family but you have to admit this entire thing has been very… Oaks of you. The Slytherin side of you, as you like to put it.”

Harry couldn’t help himself and he chuckled, causing the three adults to look at him in confusion.

“Sorry - it’s just - when Violet does something that she thinks is really brave and out of her comfort zone, she says she’s going ‘something Gryffindor.’ When she came to my house the other night, that’s what she told me she was doing.”

Genevive squeezed his hand and then pulled back. “Well. She’s more like me than I ever realised, I suppose. Mannerisms and her ways with words.”

“She’s like you, yeah, but she wouldn’t have done this,” Harry said, feeling bold. “Look, she did something for me this summer that none of the others had done. It’s been hard not being able to have  _ that _ particular friend to talk to about all this.”

The adults were silent.

“She doesn’t look at me like I’m about to blow up,” he sighed. “Because that’s how it feels everyone else looks at me right now…”

“Gen, it’s not too late to put things right. She could use the support from her friends before the appeal,” Lupin said quietly after some time. “I’m sure she would particularly appreciate Harry’s company right now - as much as he would appreciate hers.”

It took a few moments, but Genevive nodded in relent. “Alright. Remus, you wouldn’t mind sorting out a drink for her would you? Thomas, Harry; let’s go.”

Silently, the three of them made their way to the top of the house - to the room Violet had been made to stay in isolation. With a wave of her wand, Genevive undid the enchantments on it and allowed it to swing open with a quiet creak. She and Thomas poked their heads in, then looked to Harry, beckoning him closer.

He closed the gap between him and the door before stepping inside the room to see Violet sitting on the bed in her pyjamas, reading a book. Her hair was an absolute mess, her eyes were red from whatever amount of crying she’d been doing since she’d last seen him, and for a moment she appeared confused about what was happening. When it finally clicked in her brain, she dropped the book and immediately bounded over to Harry and threw her arms around him, causing him to stagger slightly. He carefully wrapped his arms around her waist, and he felt her relax.

She pulled away from him and walked over to her parents, opting to give Thomas a quick hug first as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She looked up at her mother cautiously; Genevive pursed her lips, cupping her daughter’s cheek carefully.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Genevive then said, her eyes watering.

All Violet did was nod, taking a step back from Genevive. The woman tried her best not to look heartbroken, but her daughter wasn’t ready to forgive her - not yet, at least.

“Come on,” she said to Harry, gesturing back into the room.

“Don’t you want to come downstairs?” Genevive asked hopefully. “Get some space from the four walls?”

Violet shrugged. “I’ll need to try and sleep soon anyway. I just want to be with my friend for a bit.”

“Right… of course,” Genevive’s voice was wobbly, and she shot Violet a very shaky smile. “I’ll tell Remus to bring up another hot chocolate, then. Come on, Thomas.”

They retreated back downstairs, and the teens finally went into the room.

Violet took up her previous position on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, while Harry sat at the opposite end, resting against the post behind him.

“Cosy, to a point,” he remarked.

“It was the only room far enough away from everyone,” Violet said to him. “I suppose mum’s thought process was that if I were going to be shut away for two and a half weeks, I’d need some sort of comfort so I didn’t go entirely crazy. Besides, I got a double bed out of it. Anyway, how’ve  _ you _ been?”

Apparently the question startled Harry. He jolted ever so slightly, but when his green eyes met her hazel ones - he could see the worry in them.

“It’s been alright -  _ I’ve _ been alright. I try to avoid the newspaper where I can,” he muttered, now staring down at his lap. “Unfortunately the news tends to be the talk of the dinner table most nights.”

“This isn’t how I pictured summer going at all,” Violet said with her brow furrowed. “I thought we’d be playing Quidditch at the Burrow.”

“I thought I’d be watching you get flustered around Bill if he came to visit,” he grinned at her. She poked him in the side with her foot.

Before he could respond, Lupin came in with two steaming mugs for the both of them. He handed them over and left them without another word.

Harry sniffed his, slightly confused. “This is hot chocolate, but… it smells… different.”

“There’s probably cinnamon in it.” Violet then took a sip, a warm smile coming to her face. “There’s definitely cinnamon in it. Try it.”

He took a cautious sip of the beverage, but found that actually - it added an extra layer of warmth; it felt like someone was giving him a hug from the inside. “Wow,” he finally said. “I think you might be onto something.”

“See?” Violet was positively beaming at him, and it made his heart sing. “It’s nice to be able to talk freely to you now.”

“You too. I think the others are going to enjoy that surprise at breakfast tomorrow…”

“Speaking of… did you have anything to do with this, by the way?” she asked him tentatively.

“What do you mean?”

“ _ This _ ,” she gestured between them. “What did you say to my mum, Harry?”

She wasn’t angry, only curious. “I told her what happened the last time you were cut off from us. How much it hurt you,” he murmured. “And that this summer you’re the only who looked at me like I wasn’t going to blow up.”

Violet nodded. “Well… thank you. I suppose if mum was going to listen to anyone, of course it was going to be you.”

“What’s that meant to mean?!”

“She likes you. And she doesn’t enjoy chatting back to kids that aren’t her own…”

He winced at that. “I’m sorry.”

Violet shrugged, waving it off. “It’s fine. Now, catch me up…”

Thus their conversation carried on. Harry filled Violet in on everything she’d missed during their time at Grimmauld Place, keeping their voices as hushed as possible until finally falling asleep - curled up at separate ends of the bed - at around one o’clock in the morning. The mugs lay forgotten on the floor.

Due to their late night chat, the pair of them were late to breakfast the next morning, with Harry offering up a dramatic entrance for Violet once they were fully dressed. He waited for her at the top of the stairs that led down to the kitchen; she approached him while frantically trying to tie her long, tousled black hair up into a bun. She used her wand to hold it together precariously instead of a hair band.

“Maybe I should do a Hermione and keep some on me,” Harry remarked.

“Excuse me?”

“Hair bands. One Sickle you’ll have taken your hair down in the next fifteen minutes.”

“Make it two, and it’ll be thirty.”

“You’re on,” Harry stuck out his hand and she shook it, before allowing him to lead the way down into the kitchen. He made a point of stopping in the doorway - concealing Violet - while their friends spoke to him.

“Harry, finally! You disappeared in the middle of the night!” Ron exclaimed.

“I was visiting a friend…” The moment he stepped into the kitchen and revealed Violet, her light olive skin flushed as they all called out her name in surprise.

“I’m free,” she quipped, going to sit at the table with Harry, opposite Hermione and Ron. Ginny was on the other side of her. “It’s been an interesting time, to say the least. By interesting I mean boring.”

At this point, Mrs Weasley had placed a plate of food in front of her, which she gratefully tucked into. It felt good to eat with everyone.

“Harry caught me up on all the gossip,” Violet then carried on. “And apparently I would have loved to tackle the Doxies…”

“They were a bloody nightmare!” Ginny said. “But anyway - Harry kept his lips sealed about what happened, so do tell us. And I’ll teach you Quidditch in return.” She chucked a wink at Violet, who laughed and launched into the story how she ran away to Little Whinging and produced a Patronus for the first time ever.

Being around her friends again a few days before the trial most definitely lifted her spirits.


	54. Summer, 1995: Worried Mind / Worried Heart

_ You've got a worried mind _ _   
_ _ I've got a worried heart _ _   
_ _ You don't know what to do _ _   
_ _ I don't know where to start _ _   
_ _ You let this beat us down _ _   
_ _ Well get up off the ground _ _   
_ _ One day, I know _ _   
_ __ We've got to go, oh

**_\- In Time, The Black Keys_ **

There was always going to be a damper on reuniting with her friends in the form of appealing before the Ministry of Magic. It settled uneasily at the back of Violet’s mind, a thought that became more and more prominent in the last few days before the event itself. Her initial joy of being with her friends soon faded and she became withdrawn and quiet.

“It’s going to be fine - you’ll be fine,” Hermione told her one afternoon. The pair of them were with Ginny up in the room she was staying in, taking some time to themselves away from the boys. They were all lounging on Violet’s bed. “It was self defence! Remus was a witness, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, he was,” Violet replied.

“Well there you go - if they don’t want to listen to you because you’re a teenager, they’ll listen to Remus,” Ginny pointed out. “We all know what adults are like, especially ones in power.” There was a huffy edge to her voice.

She’d been flipping through the  _ Prophet _ earlier that day, and Violet had noticed how the comments about Harry had certainly ruffled her feathers more so than usual. She felt the exact same - only, she didn’t let it show. She didn’t want to be too obvious right now.

“Have you spoken to your mum at all?” Hermione asked carefully.

Violet shook her head, and tried not to laugh mirthlessly. “No. I’m keeping her at arm’s length as much as I possibly can. I have to sit in a courtroom with her soon enough…”

“Sirius is  _ pissed _ with her,” Ginny then said. 

“Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed at the girl’s language, but she shrugged.

“What? There’s no other way to describe it. They argued every day. As far as I know, Sirius won’t talk to Genevive now, and Remus is trying to see if he can fix it, but even he’s still mad at her. A lot of them are.”

“And how do you know all of this?”

“Extendable Ears. They came in pretty useful the past few nights when I couldn’t sleep and fancied having a listen. Which reminds me… you never told us what caused your mum to change her mind in the end…” Ginny was eyeing her suspiciously, and even Hermione was oddly curious.

“A good friend convinced her otherwise,” Violet said simply.

“You mean Harry?” Hermione quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Obviously. Who else? He couldn’t sleep that night, heard her, dad, and Remus arguing… he went to go investigate and ended up convincing mum. Remus made us hot chocolate and we sat up half the night talking in here.”

Ginny went awfully quiet at that.

“The usual midnight conversation between you two, then?” Hermione filled the gap of silence as quickly as she could.

“Usual?” That had grabbed Ginny’s attention again, and Violet’s face started to flush.

“We developed a terrible habit of staying up late and talking into the early hours throughout the past couple of years. That’s the shorter version of it,” Violet said.

“And what’s the longer version?” Hermione chuckled.

Violet thought back to the first time they had found that mysterious room at Hogwarts and the reason behind them even finding it in the first place. “A trusted secret between two friends,” she smiled at the other two girls. 

She missed the eye roll that Ginny gave her.

The afternoons passed by like that - the three of them spent time away from the boys where they could, even though at dinner Violet automatically gravitated towards Harry. It made sense to the rest of them - considering what they’d gone through in Little Whinging together.

Eventually the day of the hearing rolled around, and Violet was fretting over what she could possibly wear over the knee length mustard yellow sundress she had on. It was the smartest dress she owned, but even paired with the black tights and black shoes, it was still missing  _ something _ . At least she’d managed to tame her hair for today, and had it a half-up half-down do, and the usual mess of curls she’d gotten neat with the help of Mrs Weasley.

About ten minutes due to leave, there was a knock on the door.

“Come - come in!” she said with a shaky voice as she rifled through her suitcase. She looked over her shoulder to see it was Harry, and he was carrying something brown in his arms. She stood up. “Hey.”

“Hey - um, Mrs Weasley sent me up…”

“Oh! Uh - why?”

He held out the brown thing to her. She took it and unfolded it to see it was a blazer. She stared at it, bemused.

“She said - well, I heard her telling your dad that you were worried about not having a suitable jacket…” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I feel like I know you better than our other friends so…”

“It - it’s perfect!” she smiled at him, slipping it on. It was a little big, but it was comfy, cosy, and worked well with what she was wearing. She buttoned it up. “Do I look okay? Do I look smart?”

“Yes - to both those questions.”

There was a strained pause.

“Good luck today, Vi,” Harry then closed the gap between them and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m sure you’ll be brilliant.”

“Here’s hoping I can get a sentence out in front of fifty people…” Violet started heading towards the door, with Harry on her heels.

“Think of it like all those times in Defence Against the Dark Arts in third year,” he then said. “Maybe that’ll help.”

“Maybe it was,” she agreed, her voice faraway as her mind drifted to other things while they descended the stairs. Her hand drifted to her cheek for a second - where Harry had kissed her - and she stopped dead in her tracks once they’d gone down one set of stairs.

Violet turned back to her friend - her friend, or something more? - her hazel eyes boring right into his green ones before she blurted out the most unexpected, brave sentence yet.

“Be my boyfriend.”

“I - what?”

“Be my boyfriend,” she repeated. “We - we never had a conclusive outcome of all those conversations.”

“No, we didn’t… this is… this is an outcome I want,” he breathed. He seemed startled, doe-like, like how she normally would be, but there was sincerity there. He definitely wanted it - after so long, he  _ still _ wanted it. Wanted her to say those words - ask him that question, of sorts.

“Be my boyfriend,” she said for the third time. “We don’t have to tell the others yet, if you don’t want to.”

“Be my girlfriend,” he said. “We don’t have to tell the others yet, if  _ you _ don’t want to.”

Violet’s lips twitched upwards for a moment into a half smile. “We can risk it?”

“What have we got to lose? If we don’t at least  _ try… _ ”

“Then we lose each other,” she concluded.

“Violet! Sweetheart, we have to go,” Thomas then called up, two floors below.

The pair of them made sure nobody was around, and then Harry cupped Violet’s face between his hands and left her with a very chaste kiss before spinning her round and pushing her to go meet her parents.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, casually putting his hands in his pockets. “I know I said good luck, but you don’t really need it. Not with that brain of yours. You’ll do great.”

“See you later, Harry,” she said quietly, a little flustered, as she hurried on down the rest of the stairs and met her parents and Lupin in the main hallway.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Lupin asked her, taking in her slightly frazzled state.

She nodded vigorously. “Let’s just - let’s get this over with.”

Violet barely acknowledged her mother as the four of them left and made the journey to the Ministry of Magic. They were close to King’s Cross, so took the tube from there: the Northern Line to Embankment, and switched to the Circle Line, getting off at Westminster. They walked up Whitehall, past Parliament, and down Great Scotland Yard before coming to a stop at a red telephone box.

“This is the visitor’s entrance,” Genevive explained. “It’ll be a tight squeeze, I’m afraid.”

Violet stuck as close to her father as possible as the four of them piled in, with Thomas inserting the coins they needed and dialling a number. As they descended down into the depths of the Ministry, the nerves finally hit Violet and she began to shake a little. She slipped her hand into Thomas’ and gave it a very tight squeeze, as if to quietly alert her father that all was not well with her. He squeezed her hand back in acknowledgement.

Once they were in the vast main hall of the Ministry, surrounded by various witches and wizards on their way to work for the day, Violet mostly kept her eyes to the floor. She’d never been here before, but her nerves overtook her usual curiosity and she didn’t get to take in the magnificent golden statue they wandered past on their way to an elevator.

Down, down, even further  _ down _ , Violet noted, and still she didn’t let go of her father’s hand once. Lupin gently patted her on the shoulder at one point, noticing her anxiety over the upcoming ordeal.

“ _ Department of Mysteries _ ,” the overhead voice in the elevator called out once they came to a stop.

Violet let the adults lead the way through the ornate, black marble corridor, although the echo of whispering voices pricked on her ears. She risked a glance to her left down a corridor as they walked past the source, and saw the Minister for Magic talking with a man with long, platinum blonde hair that had a familiar sneer to his face. Draco Malfoy’s father.

She averted her gaze once more.

They finally stopped.

“We can’t come in - Remus can’t come in yet. He’ll be called in if they need his account as a witness,” Genevive explained. Violet nodded, her hands becoming clammy. “Off you go, they’ll be expecting you.”

Violet took the next few shaky steps into the courtroom, and shut the door behind her.

Taking a deep breath, she moved further in, to find that only half the seats were filled: witches and wizards alike in red robes lined the three or rows of ascending seats, with an empty seat and podium in the middle of them.

The centre of the room held a singular chair directly opposite that podium, and Violet knew that she needed to go take a seat there. She smoothed out the skirt of her dress and kept her hands in her lap, trying not to make eye contact with any of the Wizengamot - and most certainly not looking at the toad-faced woman among them who was very obviously glaring at her.

Then the seat at the podium was filled. The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Violet assumed there was some back entrance to come in directly to that seat without having to cross the hall.

He got started right away.

“Disciplinary hearing for the offenses of Violet Lucinda Merryworth, resident of Guildford, daughter of Thomas Martin Merryworth and Genevive Stella Merryworth, is that correct?” Fudge directed at her.

“Yes sir.” Her voice was shaky, and she could feel her face growing redder and redder as every second passed.

“The charges of which state that you not once, but  _ twice _ performed the Patronus Charm in the presence of a Muggle in Little Whinging. Do you deny this?”

“No sir.” Less shaky.

“And you  _ are _ aware you must not use magic outside of school under the age of seventeen?”

“Yes sir.” Still not  _ quite _ back to normal...

“Then tell me, Miss Merryworth - for someone who has such a  _ pristine _ record at school, with a father working as a Healer at St Mungo’s and a mother working as an Auror for this very Ministry - why would you break the law?” he asked her.

Violet swallowed. “There were two Dementors, sir.” That was it. That was her normal voice.

“In Little Whinging?” a witch in the Wizengamot piped up. Violet recognised her voice from the letter she’d been sent at Privet Drive: it was Mafalda Hopkirk.

“Yes ma’am. They were about to attack my friend and I, and my friend’s cousin too. In fact… I saved my friend’s cousin’s life - the cousin was the Muggle, you see.”

Fudge was looking at her curiously, whilst Hopkirk seemed impressed.

“Muggles can’t see Dementors,” Fudge said.

“No sir, they can’t. However, why would I lie about something like that? You said yourself I have a pristine record at school.” A bold statement to retort with, but she had to fight. There wasn’t time for nerves now.

“Who was the friend?” he asked.

“Harry Potter, sir.”

“And why were you in Little Whinging with Harry Potter?”

“He lives there. I… I snuck away from my own family in Guildford to see him.”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline. “You  _ snuck away? _ Why?”

Violet’s jaw went taut for a moment. She couldn’t say anything about the Order, of course, so she had to lie. She was going to have to lie about her parents and their motives. “My parents didn’t want me seeing him this summer, you see, because of what he’d been saying about Voldemort.” It killed her. Every word of that sentence killed her, but she carried on spinning the web. “They didn’t believe him. They didn’t want me to associate with him.”

God, she was going to have to do some damage control later on today.

“And  _ you _ believe what he’s been saying about You-Know-Who, I presume?”

“Yes sir. I believe every word he said. So I ran away from home in the middle of the night so I could spend some time with my friend. If you must know, it was my uncle who realised I was missing so he came after us. Harry, his cousin, and I were trying to run from my uncle when the Dementors attacked.”

“I thought you had no uncle to speak of - I’m well aware of the Oaks family history-”

“Forgive me for interrupting you, sir, but he’s not my uncle by blood.”

“Who is it?”

“Remus John Lupin, sir. He’s here now. He came with me for support, and in case you wanted to talk to him…”

There was a moment of silence from the Wizengamot.

“Why would we,” began the toad-faced woman in a sickly sweet voice, “want to interview a  _ werewolf _ , Miss Merryworth?”

Her face flushed with vexation at that question, her blood boiling. She clenched her fists in her lap.

“Because, ma’am, he is the only other witness besides Harry Potter, and he is readily available.” How she kept her voice even, Violet didn’t know.

“Bring him in please, Miss Merryworth,” Fudge said.

Violet nodded and hopped off the chair, power walking to the door. There were angry tears in her eyes as she went to grab Lupin, not bothering to explain why she was so mad. The moment they were back in the courtroom, she put on a more professional face once more.

“Remus John Lupin,” Fudge announced. “Please take a seat in the centre. Miss Merryworth, settle wherever you like.”

She looked to the one half of the empty stands, and went to sit in the bottom row as close to Lupin as possible.

“Now, Mr Lupin, could you please elaborate on your relationship with Miss Merryworth and her family? For clarity purposes.”

Lupin glanced over to Violet, and she gave a slight shrug.

“I’ve been a close friend of Genevive’s for many years,” he started to explain. “You may be aware of the fact she was disowned from her own family, leaving Violet without relatives… as there were none alive on Thomas’ side by nineteen seventy nine… anyway, they took me in after I lost my closest friends during Voldemort’s downfall on Halloween in nineteen eighty one. I grew closer to them. I was effectively Violet’s uncle, and I still am as long as she chooses to use that title for me. She is my niece in every single way except blood, until she feels she has outgrown that title.”

“How touching,” Fudge remarked, and Violet couldn’t tell if there was a hint of malice or sarcasm in his voice. “And you were her teacher for a year as well, correct?”

“Yes sir, I was.”

“Surely not appropriate, given the familial relation?”

“Dumbledore was aware. Violet and I never interacted outside of lessons, unless it was school related of course. She’s quite precocious with her school work, you see. Likes to be ahead.”

She knew that was a lie. Dear god, how were they so good at this?

“And you were in the presence of the Dementors she cast a Patronus for? Why didn’t you cast it instead?”

Lupin sighed. “I thought you might ask that. I’m sure you’re aware of my condition, sir, and how it can leave me weary after every transformation. It was perhaps a day or two after the full moon that Violet took off to go visit Harry. When I realised in the morning she was gone, I Apparated to Little Whinging and gave chase to the three teenagers. By the time I reached them and they were in the presence of the Dementors, she had already cast the Patronus.”

“Sorry to digress, Minister,” Hopkirk spoke up, “but I am curious: what form did Miss Merryworth’s Patronus take?”

Lupin had to keep the smile off of his face. “A rabbit.”

There were a couple of chuckles amongst the Wizengamot. It was an animal that clearly reflected as sweet as Violet looked.

“And you are certain that there were Dementors in Little Whinging?”

“Absolutely,” Lupin nodded. “I could feel the cold ebbing away. I could see them fleeing from that sweet, little rabbit. There were most certainly two Dementors in Little Whinging two weeks ago, but I haven’t the faintest idea why.”

“Naturally - we’re uncertain either,” Fudge said.

“As far as I am aware, the Dementors are meant to be under  _ Ministry _ control - so why were there two of them in Surrey? So far from Azkaban?”

The toad faced lady cleared her throat, and stared at Lupin with disdain as she spoke. “Mr Lupin, dare I say that you are insinuating that the Ministry sent two Dementors to attack three children?”

Violet saw Lupin cringe at the word “children” - particularly coming from that woman’s mouth. He was pained as he answered her.

“Not at all, I’m suggesting that perhaps a tighter control is needed on those creatures. Who knows if they are tired of what they have in Azkaban?”

Violet tried not to look disgusted at the sentence that he just said, but she realised it was to cover his tracks.

“Please, Minister, this girl,” Lupin gestured over at Violet, “is truly a remarkable witch. Her expulsion from Hogwarts would be devastating. I was her teacher for a year - I’ve seen her  _ thrive. _ She has ambitions, hopes, dreams - like any other  _ teenager _ ,” the way he emphasised the word meant that Violet had to refrain from smirking. “I know a lot of you think my word means nothing because I am a werewolf, but I have known Violet for her whole life. I taught her. She wouldn’t break a law like that for fun. It was self defence. Is that not why we were here in the first place? To confirm that it was self defence, not about where and why the Dementors were in Little Whinging in the first place?”

The silence that befell the room was deadly. Fudge then turned to Violet.

“Miss Merryworth, what  _ is _ your ambition once you’re out of Hogwarts?”

“I want to be a Healer sir, just like my dad,” she said. “The world could always use more people to look out for others. Like I did for Harry’s cousin - someone I barely know.”

“Hmm…” he considered that for a moment. “You are most certainly a respectable girl like your parents, Miss Merryworth. Alright. Those in favour of conviction?”

Only a handful of people - that included the toad faced woman - raised their hands.

“And those in favour of clearing Miss Merryworth of all charges?”

An overwhelming majority raised their hands, including Fudge. He appeared satisfied with that outcome. “Cleared of all charges!” he announced.

Violet ran down to Lupin and threw herself into his arms as he stood up.

“I knew it,” he murmured into the top of her head. “I knew you’d be fine, sweet girl.”


	55. Summer, 1995: Grimmauld Place Part IV

The four of them stayed out for the afternoon in a quaint coffee shop in central London just off of Charing Cross Road, where Thomas treated Violet to whatever decadent cake and coffee she wanted. Even though he, Genevive, and Lupin were incredibly proud of Violet, there was a stilted atmosphere as she still barely gave her mother any attention. Genevive eventually took the hit and sat back quietly, sipping on her coffee and only participating in conversation if Thomas or Lupin said something to her that would be of note.

“I feel like I was always bound to get out of it,” Violet said.

“How so?” Thomas replied.

“Fudge mentioned a few times that you and mum were respectable. That I had a pristine record - I feel like he  _ knew  _ the entire time that I wasn’t lying about what happened. Although…” she frowned, and then leaned forward, talking in a lower voice. “I did have to lie about why I was in Little Whinging. Since - you know - I couldn’t exactly mention the Order…”

“What did you say?”

“That you and mum weren’t happy with me associating Harry because of what he said about Voldemort,” she explained, a guilty look on her face. “It was the only thing I could come up with on the spot.”

“You really do take after me…” Genevive muttered. Violet ignored her.

Thomas, on the other hand, was gobsmacked. “Violet, sweetheart, that’s-”

“I know.  _ I know _ ,” she sighed. “I’m not proud of it either. But whatever worked in the moment, right?”

“Of course,” he agreed. “I just - I wouldn’t have expected you to-”

“I didn’t expect me to either, dad.”

The four of them tried not to let it sour the rest of the afternoon.

Taking advantage of where they were, Violet dragged her parents and Lupin to a little side street filled with second hand and vintage bookshops. Thomas parted with some cash when he spotted his daughter eyeing up an old, hardback version of an Oscar Wilde play, and she came out of the shop incredibly happy.

Genevive raised an eyebrow at her husband, and he merely shrugged as they made their way back to number twelve in the early evening.

By the time they’d gotten back to Grimmauld Place, the Hogwarts letters had come through too. Violet was met with a sign in the kitchen congratulating Ron and Hermione on becoming the new Gryffindor Prefects, and her heart sank.

She’d forgotten about that. It wasn’t like she’d actively wanted to be Prefect, but… it made her feel odd, and it made her wonder if the entire situation with the hearing had impacted that decision. It was pretty obvious from the look on Harry’s face that he was also a little put out by Ron getting Prefect over him. Either way - Violet knew Hermione deserved it, so went up to her friend and congratulated her.

“Well done!” She told her with a hug.

“Thanks!” Hermione was absolutely giddy with joy. “Mum and dad’ll be  _ so _ pleased… it’s something they’ll understand!”

“You’ll have to let me know what they say.”

“Of course! And well done to you too, by the way - we all knew you’d get through the hearing just fine. It was self defense after all.”

At that point, Mrs Weasley came hurrying over to them. “And that’s another thing to be celebrating!” she beamed at Violet before pulling her into a warm embrace. The girl practically melted into it, considering she’d not properly interacted with her own mother for half the summer. This was much needed. “I know it seems odd, but Ron did mention you’re not the greatest at speaking in front of large groups…”

Once Violet had pulled back from Mrs Weasley, she glanced over at Ron, whose ears promptly turned red.

“We’re considering it an act of bravery,” Genevive said from behind her daughter. “And quite rightly too. I’m proud of you, darling.”

Violet only gave her a curt nod in response.

“Bill and Arthur will be on their way - they’re thrilled to hear that Ron’s a Prefect, and I’m sure Bill will be over the moon that everything went smoothly for you,” Mrs Weasley patted Violet on the shoulder before heading back over to the stove.

Harry hung back from Violet while she spoke with the rest of the Weasley teenagers about the trial for a few minutes, and only when she was completely free from them did he wander over to her, enveloping her in a warm hug.

“Well done,” he whispered in her ear.

“Thanks,” she replied, her arms tightening around his waist for a moment. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, almost forgetting that they were with their friends - as soon as the moment had started, it was over. They’d let go of each other. She shrugged out of the blazer. “Oh and um - thanks for saving my outfit with this, by the way.”

“Any time,” he said, taking the blazer back. The pair of them avoided the looks that Hermione and Ginny threw their way: curious and suspicious. Violet knew that she’d be cornered by Hermione at some point soon, no doubt.

More of the Order started filtering in for dinner - or party, as it were - soon enough Violet found herself conversing with the real Mad-Eye Moody for the first time ever.

“I’m sorry about what happened at our house, Alastor,” she said politely.

“No harm done,” he grumbled as he sat down at the table while she hovered nearby. “You really  _ do _ take after your father. Shame he never became an Auror - I reckon he’d be good. And I’ve heard  _ you _ have a knack for more advanced spells, the Patronus aside.”

Violet gulped, her eyes widening. “I - I suppose I do, yes…”

“Ever considered following in your mother’s footsteps?”

She risked a glance across the room where Genevive was chatting idly with Tonks.

“No,” she finally said to Moody. “Just because I can be good in combat doesn’t mean I want to go down that route.”

“But you’re clever too.”

“So?”

“There’s detective work in being an Auror. You’d excel.”

She offered him a wry smile.

“And I prefer helping people in other ways-”

“Oh, Mad-Eye,” chimed the voice of Bill Weasley - who had clearly just arrived - from behind Violet. “Stop trying to recruit Violet to the Ministry… let her cool off after today.”

Violet couldn’t keep the grin off her face as he came to rescue like that, and stepped away from Moody. The coolest looking Weasley gave her a quick hug. “Thanks,” she said.

“Any time. Do me a favour though…” He pulled something out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her: a slightly battered envelope addressed to her, in elegant, loopy writing. “Send Fleur a damn letter.”

Violet’s jaw dropped and she went a little white as she took the letter from him. “You - you know Fleur?”

He gestured with his head and they headed to the section of the table where they could grab a Butterbeer each. “I’ve got a desk job at Gringotts now. Trying to keep my ear to the ground and see what side the goblins are on. She’s got a job there too - part time - I think she’s trying to learn English…”

“And how did you get onto the topic of... me?”

He shrugged, taking a swig from his bottle. “We were just talking one lunchtime. She’d noticed us two sitting with each other during the third task. Said she’d given you her address and you hadn’t written.”

She chuckled nervously, starting to comb her fingers through the ends of her hair. “Well, I didn’t realise she actually wanted to hear from me. I thought she was just… being nice.”

“With the way you were looking at her?” Harry piped up, approaching them. “Please. I think she wanted to know if you were interested.”

Bill laughed at that remark. “Either way - just read what she had to write.”

“I will, don’t worry,” Violet told him.

“Are you interested in Fleur?”

Violet had to stop herself from looking at Harry. “No,” her voice came out strained. “No, my interest lies elsewhere…”

With how obviously she wasn’t looking at the boy, Bill’s gaze flickered between the two of them. “Hmm. I guess that’ll leave Fleur for me, then…”

“She’s yours if you want to ask her out, Bill. I don’t think I’ll be going for her any time soon.”

She caught Harry’s smirk out of the corner of her eye, and had to refrain from smiling.

“You won’t be completely heartbroken that you can’t have her  _ or _ me?” he then teased.

Violet’s cheeks flushed furiously, and she batted Bill on the arm. “Hey! How did you-?”

“It was  _ so _ obvious, Vi…” Then he leaned towards the pair, speaking quietly. “Speaking of, try not to be so obvious yourselves.” He stood back up straight and winked at the pair of them, before sauntering off over to his family.

Violet whipped around to Harry, panic written all over her face. “Are we  _ really _ that obvious?” she hissed at him.

“Nah. Bill just hasn’t seen how we became stupidly close over the past year,” Harry said with a shrug. “Anyway, the real test is Hogwarts. Shall we talk about it after this?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

The rest of the evening passed in flurries of conversation that Violet found herself withdrawing from more and more, already finding herself exhausted by the time the food was ready. She picked at what was on her plate, not as enthused as she should have been joining in the toasts for Ron and Hermione on becoming the new Gryffindor Prefects. She caught Harry’s eye across the table when that happened: his jaw was set, his smile forced.

As much as she wanted to talk to him about it, she knew that whilst he was clearly angry about the Prefect issue it wasn’t the best idea. She filed that away to the back of her mind to ask about on another day, when the wound wasn’t so fresh.

She skipped dessert, opting to slip out from everyone and away up to her room.

Despite the fact she’d grown to have a Stockholm Syndrome type of love for the room, it was the only place of solitude for her after getting overwhelmed by the atmosphere downstairs. It didn’t matter that it was only half past seven by this point, Violet changed into her pyjamas. It was good to get out of that dress - something of which she only realised that after taking it off had been a little too tight around the chest.

It took about half an hour before the insufferable claustrophobia of being in the room kicked in - no matter if her door was open. It was as if her solitude wasn’t a comforting friend anymore, but rather holding her prisoner. For a moment, Violet debated changing back into what she’d been wearing that day to go back downstairs and join everyone, but she remembered the book Lupin had given her.

So she sat at the desk reading, losing herself in the world of Tess, letting her mind drift back to the time that book was written, using the characters as a means of companionship for the time being. They wouldn’t drag her into unwanted, fast paced conversation - no, she could read at her own pace. It was much better that way.

Around about nine o’clock, there was a knock on Violet’s door. She knew it would be Harry, so called for him to come in. She barely glanced over her shoulder as he shut the door and approached her at the desk; she was finishing up reading the chapter of her book, so he merely perched himself on the desk and waited patiently for her to close the book.

“ _ Tess of d’Urbervilles,’ _ ” Harry read out. “What’s it about?”

“A lady called Tess - and her life, I suppose,” Violet yawned, undoing her hair from the half-up do it was in, and shaking out the long tresses over the back of the chair. “It’s quite dark, but Remus gifted it to me - as ever.”

“Of course.”

Silence.

“Are you alright?” he asked her. “You didn’t stay for dessert.”

She shrugged. “Too much conversation at once. I needed an out, but…”

“But?”

“I… didn’t find as much solitude as I wanted.”

“Right…” he said, a little confused, but left it for now. Violet clearly didn’t want to elaborate. “So about earlier…” Harry switched subjects.

“Yeah,” Violet said, hopping up to join him on the desk. She rested her feet in the chair. “It seems silly, doesn’t it? To keep this a secret?”

“Maybe, but we’ve got other secrets we’ve kept for far longer.”

“This is bigger than that.”

“I know, but you don’t like it when people talk about you, or stare. Come to think of it, I’ve been stared at far too much in my lifetime…” He pointed directly at the scar and grinned. “This could be the one thing I have that’s just… mine?”

She playfully - and gently - nudged him. “I’m all yours,” she giggled. “Seriously, though, I get what you mean. It’s easy for me to disappear into the background anyway, so… providing I don’t hex anyone at the start of the year, and people don’t find out about the whole… running away thing, I should be free from stares.”

“Here’s hoping Fred and George don’t talk too much about your rebellious antics in the Common Room, then.”

“Here’s hoping,” she repeated, softly. Harry took hold of Violet’s hand, intertwining his fingers with her own. A sense of calm overtook the girl - the pair of them, really - and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t think I’d feel this comfortable around anyone. Ever.”

“Well, I’m glad you are.”

“Me too. And I’m glad we’re doing this - trying it. I just - I don’t want to lose you, Harry. Through all this, the fact you were my first friend will always mean a lot to me.  _ Always. _ ”

Her voice was growing tinier and tinier with every passing second, and the boy realised she was tired. His shoulder was apparently that comfortable to her, that she was  _ really _ relaxed. At peace. Something he realised would be a rarity, and  _ had _ been a rarity over their tumultuous summer.

“Can I ask you a favour?” he said all of a sudden.

“Yeah?” Violet’s eyelids were starting to flutter closed, and she instead looped her arm around Harry’s.

“As much as I appreciated what you did for me this summer, please don’t do something as stupid as that again.”

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I thought it was something Gryffindor…”

“No. It was stupid. Something Gryffindor was you telling me to be your boyfriend. And me telling you to be my girlfriend.”

She squeezed his upper arm gently.

“Come on,” he said. “You’ve looked out for me enough this summer. My turn. Go to bed.”

The pair of them slid off the desk, Harry leading Violet to her bed and pulling aside the covers for her. She climbed into bed, and he practically tucked her in.

“See you in the morning.”

She nodded sleepily, but patted the empty space next to her. “Stay.”

“Bit obvious, isn’t it?”

“As if our friends will suspect anything other than the fact we probably stayed up talking again,” she muttered. “And… I don’t like being alone up here at the moment.”

Harry paused for a moment, his heart sinking as he realised that that was what she had meant about not being able to find solitude. How could he have forgotten - of course she wouldn’t - “Yeah. No, I - I get that. I’ll stick up here tonight then.”

All he did was lie down on top of the covers in the spot next to her, not feeling it appropriate to get under them entirely. That didn’t matter to Violet. She fell asleep soundly within a few minutes knowing that Harry was there. He didn’t even have a single bad dream that night, either.

So when he was able to, Harry would sneak up to Violet’s room for the remainder of the summer holiday, in the short time they had left before heading back to school. He found she was right - it was easy enough to play it off as the pair of them staying up late and talking as they normally would.

It seemed like this would be the most straightforward secret for the pair of them to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the summer chapters! Hope you all enjoyed that arc. Chapters may be a bit slower. Work is gonna be super crazy for me until December, so I'll try my best to update as frequently as I can!


	56. Bittersweet Journey

Violet didn’t say goodbye to her mother.

The teenagers were to be escorted by Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, and Arthur to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, mostly as a safety precaution. It meant that Violet had to say goodbye to Genevive, Thomas, and Lupin in the morning before leaving.

It didn’t matter to her that Genevive was waiting patiently for Violet to come to her; the girl didn’t acknowledge her at all. She ignored her mother completely. It did not go unnoticed by Thomas, Lupin, or Mrs Weasley, for that matter. In fact, it was rather awkward when Violet opted to very obviously say goodbye to the redheaded woman and give her a long embrace.

Harry had been lingering just by the front door, waiting for Violet, and even he could feel the awkwardness of the whole situation, and didn’t say a word about it until they were far enough away from the house that she wouldn’t bite his head off.

“Will you ever forgive her?” he asked carefully.

Violet shrugged. “Who knows?”

Before he could say anything else, a black dog came running up to their heels, yapping away excitedly. Padfoot reached up and licked Harry’s hand, before giving Violet the same treatment, falling into step beside them on their walk to King’s Cross.

“Can we sit alone for a little bit? Once we’re on the train?” Violet asked Harry quietly.

“Yeah, sure.”

They didn’t say much else to each other for the rest of the walk, although every now and then Violet’s hand twitched as if she wanted to take Harry’s.

By the time they reached the station, Padfoot ran into an empty waiting room with Harry going after him. Moody wasn’t too impressed, but their group stopped and hovered until the pair of them came back out again. Violet eyed Harry oddly, but he patted the pocket on his hoodie, and gave her a look as if to say he’d explain in a bit.

Harry and Violet had a compartment to themselves for the first half an hour of the journey back to Hogwarts, thankfully, as Hermione and Ron had to go sit with the other Prefects. It was hard to shake off Ginny and the twins, but they managed it - only just.

“What did Sirius want?” Violet asked, once the Hogwarts Express had set off.

“To show me this,” Harry replied, pulling a battered photo out of his pocket and handing it across to her. “It’s the original Order of the Phoenix.”

Violet stared down at the picture, a curious look on her face. “Goodness. Our parents were so young, weren’t they?”

“They were all nineteen in that photo,” Harry said. “ Except your dad. He would have been…?”

“Twenty one,” she said. “You remembered he was older?”

“Course I did.”

She gave him back the photo, her lips drawing into a thin line. “Strange to think they were barely adults when it all kicked off the first time. We’re just barely teenagers.”

“Don’t,” he sighed, folding up the photo. “I don’t wanna think about it - youth. Being young while all this is going on. It just reminds me how unfair it is.”

“Yes… yes, it is unfair, isn’t it?” Violet slumped back in her seat and stared out the window. “How did you sleep last night?”

The previous night was one of the few nights they hadn’t stayed up late together in Violet’s room. It seemed more sensible, considering it was the last night before heading back to school.

“Badly. You?”

“Same. It was about Cedric again.”

“Yeah, I er - I dreamt something similar. And just about Voldemort in general. You know, it feels nice to talk about this with you. I don’t know if Ron and Hermione would… you know…”

Violet shot him a sad smile and nodded, reaching over and patting him on the knee.

It was silent between them for some time, as they both became distracted by thoughts of their other two friends.

Violet was obviously ashamed of herself for losing the chance to even become Prefect, and Harry was still annoyed. She didn’t know how to broach the subject with him - if she should broach the subject with him, but Violet could sense a vexation in Harry that she hadn’t quite known before. She couldn’t help but steal worried glances at him, and he could feel it. The tautness of his jaw was a dead giveaway that he knew Violet was watching him.

“Stop it,” Harry grumbled at her, and she sighed. That was when he softened. “Sorry. I’m fine about it, though, really.”

“You’re about as fine as me about all of this,” she said gently, moving to sit next to him. “I sometimes wonder if I would have gotten Prefect if I hadn’t come to Privet Drive that night… but there’s a chance it could have always been Hermione.”

“It could have always been Hermione, but…”

“But it might have always been Ron,” Violet said. “I know. Even I thought that decision was… strange.”

He turned to face her properly. “Am I bad? Am I bad for questioning that? For thinking that I’m better than Ron in some kind of way?”

“I wouldn’t say bad…” Violet was treading carefully. “Maybe selfish.”

He frowned, but gestured for her to carry on.

“Me, you, and Hermione are all only children. No siblings to compete with. I - I know the Dursleys don’t care much for your achievements, but you still have to consider that as Ron’s best friend, you do have an appeal to his mum. She adores you like a son, so in a way, you’re just another sibling for Ron to compete with.” She paused for a moment. “Let him have this one, Harry. Don’t get me wrong, you are far more model Prefect material than Ron, but let him take this win.”

Harry considered her words for a few moments, eventually nodding and relaxing back in his seat. “Less attention on me, I guess.”

She beamed at him, and stood up to go grab her bag off the rack above where she’d been previously sitting. As she went on her tiptoes and stretched up for her belongings, Violet’s shirt lifted a little, exposing her midriff.

“And I can pay more attention to you if I’m not distracted by being a Prefect,” he said, going red in the cheeks as he stared at that strip of lightly tanned skin.

Violet threw  _ Tess of d’Urbervilles _ over her shoulder at him, and was blushing furiously as she set back down on her feet and turned around. The book had hit him right in the face and knocked his glasses to the floor.

She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, god, I’m sorry!” she squeaked, hurriedly dropped to the ground, picking up Harry’s glasses and handing them back to him. There was a mark in the middle of his forehead right next to his scar, and his eyes were watering.

“Remind me not to try flirting with you again…” he muttered, putting his glasses back on and rubbing the sore spot on his head as Violet retrieved her book - which had bounced over to the door, where Ginny, Neville (with a strange looking plant), and a blonde haired girl had just approached.

“What the  _ hell _ have you two been up to?” Ginny asked, trying not to laugh at the look on Harry’s face. Violet scurried back to sitting opposite Harry.

“Oh, you know, Violet threw a book at me,” he said, scowling at his friend -  _ girlfriend _ .

“Mind if we join? Prefects are halfway through rounds and Malfoy was… well, being Malfoy.”

“Go for it,” Harry said, and the three of them walked in. The blonde haired girl was curious; she was reading a magazine upside down, and she appeared to have a faraway look on her face. Ginny and Neville sat on Harry’s side of the compartment, while the newcomer sat on Violet’s side.

“Sorry - this is Luna Lovegood. She’s a Ravenclaw in my year,” Ginny quickly introduced. “Luna, this is Harry Potter, and Violet Merryworth-”

“Oh yes, I know who Harry Potter is,” the girl said in a dreamy voice behind her magazine. Violet tilted her head to the side to see it was labelled  _ The Quibbler. _ “And Violet… I heard you went to the Yule Ball with Harry.”

Violet snapped out of her intrigue of the Quibbler. “I - er - yes. I did. I didn’t think many people read the Quibbler?”

“My father writes it,” Luna said.

“Oh! I see. Lovely…”

“Would you like a copy?” Luna finally peered over the top of the magazine towards Violet. “I can have one mailed to you.”

“Erm…” Violet made eye contact with Ginny very briefly, who seemed to be silently urging her to accept the offer. “Sure. Thank you, Luna.”

Satisfied, the girl went back behind her magazine.

“How was your summer Neville?” Harry then asked, turning the subject away from the peculiar magazine. “And what is  _ that _ ?” He was referencing the odd, cactus-like plant that the boy had; a plant that was beginning to squirm a little.

“My summer was alright! My uncle sent me this - it’s a Mimbulus Mimbletonia, thought it might be helpful for Herbology this year. It’s got  _ loads  _ of useful properties… like this defence mechanism, hang on-”

All he had to do was lightly touch a certain point of the plant, and it exploded a rather horrific, green gunk over them all. Ginny managed to throw her arms up in front of her face in time, as Violet and Luna did so with their respective book and magazine. Harry wasn’t quite so lucky and received a faceful of it along with Neville.

It didn’t help that it absolutely  _ reeked _ .

“Stinksap!” Violet cried out, pulling her wand out of the pocket of her jacket. Before she could even cast the Scouring Charm, there was a tap at the door.

Cho Chang. Looking uncertain as ever, particularly about what she had just walked in on.

“Hi - hi Harry…” her Scottish voice drifted over. “I… I take it this is a bad time?”

“Little - little bit,” he said, wiping his mouth.

“Maybe I’ll catch you at Hogsmeade Station?” she suggested shyly.

“Sure. Why not?” he said uneasily, taking off his glasses and shaking off the Stinksap as best as he could, all the while looking at Violet.

“I’ll catch you later,” she said, before disappearing off down the train.

Violet let out a little laugh. “Someone has a crush on you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first, and  _ certainly _ not the last,” he retorted, annoyed she’d blatantly pointed it out.

“ _ Scourgify!” _ Violet opted to ignore his tone and waved her wand over the group, and it were as if the Stinksap hadn’t erupted from Neville’s plant in the first place.

“Cheers…” Harry muttered, putting his glasses back on.

“Sorry - I didn’t realise it would do that,” Nevillie said sheepishly. “Anyway, how were your summers? Violet, I heard you nearly got expelled?”

“Did you now?” she replied, exasperated, seeing Ginny begin to go red out of the corner of her eye.

“Why did you nearly get expelled?” Luna asked, curious.

Violet didn’t say a single word. She stared down at her lap, a wry smile coming to her face. She knew in her heart that Ginny hadn’t meant anything malicious by mentioning it in what must have been an offhand way to Neville and Luna before heading into the compartment, but it still stung. That was  _ her _ story and  _ hers alone _ to tell. It was information only she would choose to disclose - it wasn’t something for anyone to take away from her.

“She saved my cousin’s life,” Harry said. He was proud of her, that much she could tell, but for some reason it brought tears to her eyes. Yes, she may have saved Dudley’s life, but what had it cost her? Her relationship with her mother and half of her summer? “With a Patronus,” he added.

Violet sighed deeply. “I don’t want to talk about this - I thought that was... clearly not.”

“We don’t mean any harm by it-”

“That doesn’t matter. I’d rather not have this spreading around the school,” Violet cut Ginny off, standing up, leaving her book on the seat, and heading to the door. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

She needed air - or at least, what she could get while on a train.

After stepping out of the compartment, she started to head towards the back end of the train. She knew that the Prefects sat up front and she didn’t fancy a run in with Ron or Hermione right, not when she needed space. A little walk away from the group of them for a good five or ten minutes - she’d be right as rain.

Being so alone that summer had made her forget what it was like to be with groups of people constantly; she’d only had a small taste of that towards the end of August, and if the incident in the carriage proved anything, it was that gossip always prevailed. Even unintentionally.

“Violet - Violet!” Harry was calling after her. She didn’t turn around and kept walking until reaching the end of the carriage they were in. She stepped out of sight of the doorway leading into the next carriage, tucked away into a little corner.

She folded her arms stubbornly, and noticed he was holding something behind his back. “I needed some breathing room for a moment, you didn’t need to come after me.”

“No - I know, but - I - I didn’t mean to… when you said about Cho having a crush on me. I didn’t mean to get so annoyed.”

Her eyelids fluttered in a surprised blink. “Oh. Well, I wasn’t jealous or anything, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t - you never seemed like the type anyway.”

“You say that,” Violet cleared her throat. “Remember last year on the train when you had a run in with Cho?”

Harry chuckled. “Ah. Well, that was… different.”

“I suppose so.” There was a momentary lull. “I don’t want to talk about what happened this summer. With anyone. Again. I’m glad I saved Dudley’s life, Harry, I really am, but there was  _ such _ a cost to that.” As she thought about Genevive, tears welled up and spilled over her cheeks; cheeks that promptly turned pink when she hastily wiped them clean.

“You’re away from her now. Can be for as long as you want if you stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. If you stay for Christmas, I’ll stay with you as well.”

She shook her head. “What about Sirius? Why don’t you and I just go… stay with Sirius over Christmas? I’m sure he’ll appreciate the company. Besides, he likes me. I think he’d be happy about us two,” she said that last part at a whisper.

“Sounds like a plan. Are you going to come back?”

“Not yet,” she said with the shake of her head. “I know Ginny didn’t mean anything by it-”

Harry presented what he had been holding behind his back: her book. The sudden gesture made Violet lose track of her sentence. “You knew I wasn’t going to come back with you.”

“Come back whenever you like,” he told her, forcing the book into her palms. “Hex Malfoy if he passes by and tries it.”

“Not a good idea, mate,” came the voice of Ron as he stepped into the carriage with Hermione behind him. “He’s a Prefect.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Lovely. The year is off to a tremendous start. What were you two doing down this end anyway?”

“Rounds,” Hermione said. “We were just coming back to look for your compartment. Is… everything okay?”

Violet nodded fervently. “I just needed some air. I’ll be back in a little bit. Go head. I’ll be fine.”

She offered her three friends a shaky smile, and after a few moments contemplation, left her in that little corner of the carriage. Sighing in relief, Violet fell back against the wall and slid down onto the floor, flicking her book open once she was settled comfortably.

She felt like she could breathe again. Even though something at the back of her mind told her to worry about what they could possibly be talking about in the compartment while she was gone, it wasn’t enough of a concern to distract her from reading, curled up in that tiny spot. Violet could feel her whole body loosening up, relaxing. A calm filling her as she devoured word after word, page after page; she would have been completely at ease were it not for hearing Malfoy’s approaching voice to her right.

She jumped up. Started making her way back to the compartment. Violet wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it wasn’t enough. Of course Malfoy had to disturb it.

“Ooohh, Merryworth’s on her own,” he called up the narrow corridor after her.

She kept walking and picked up her pace a little.

“Pathetic,” goaded Pansy Parkinson’s voice. “Those friends of hers didn’t even want to keep her around…”

A sudden, painful tug on her long braid had Violet yelping and coming to a stop. She tried batting at whoever of the two had hold of her.

“Don’t even bother,” Malfoy’s voice was in her ear, and he’d managed to grab hold of both of her arms and pin them behind her back. She dropped her book. “I’m surprised you even were allowed to come back. Father told me all about how you were on trial - he was speaking with the Minister when you were on your way in.”

She felt the colour drain from her face, and she struggled against him. Renewed tears slipped down her cheeks. This was possibly her worst nightmare - of course Malfoy would have found out about this through his father… his  _ Death Eater father. _

“I’ll keep that little secret of yours - I won’t spoil your good girl image… just stay out of my way along with Potter, the blood traitor, and the Mudblood and I won’t let it slip you nearly got yourself expelled-”

“Oi!” Fred Weasley had poked his head out into the corridor.

They had stopped near enough to his compartment that he had  _ just  _ been able to see what was going on.

“Leave her, Malfoy,” he said.

The Slytherin boy let go of Violet, and kicked her book further down the carriage, giving her a shove in its direction for good measure. She stumbled down to all fours, and picked up her book before hurrying to stand up again. Fred had fully stepped into the corridor, watching as Malfoy and Pansy retreated back the way they came, clearly thinking it wasn’t worth the argument.

“You alright?” Fred asked her quietly.

Violet nodded quickly, before automatically going to undo her hair and shake it out. She pocketed the band.

“You won’t say anything, will you?” she asked in return.

“About this?” Fred didn’t seem too convinced by that idea.

“No - no about what happened with me this summer. Malfoy - Malfoy knows. And he knows it’s something I’m not proud of…” she sniffed, trying to hold back the tears but to no avail. She started crying far more openly.

Fred was dumbfounded at first, but shaking himself out of his initially shocked stupor, he put an arm around Violet whilst George came out to see what the fuss was all about.

“It’s okay little lady,” George said. “The boys have got you now. Where are your lot sitting?”

“Just - just a few more compartments up that way.”

“We’ll walk you back,” Fred said. Violet didn’t argue as they followed her back to her friends.

The moment she appeared in the doorway shaken up and crying, the six occupants stopped mid conversation. Harry rose from his seat immediately as Violet stepped in, his brow knotted while taking in her current appearance, while the twins hovered at the doorway.

“What happened?” he asked. Neville immediately moved to sit where she’d previously been, opening up the gap for her to sit with Harry.

“Malfoy,” the twins said together.

“He knows about… the incident, shall we say?” Fred then said.

“How? How would he know?” Hermione was shocked to say the least.

“His - his dad saw me on my way into the Ministry…” Violet murmured, giving her book back to Harry. He was confused by that, but put his free arm around her as they sat back down. She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she called over to the twins, who gave curt nods before leaving.

“Did - did he do anything?” Harry queried.

“He… pulled on my hair. He pulled on my braid.”

Violet took the hair band from her pocket, and slipped it into the one in his hoodie. “You said you should keep them on you. I don’t think I want this one anymore anyway…”

Anyone could have heard a pin drop.

“Your hair looks so pretty in a braid though,” Luna said to her. “But it looks equally nice down too. You’re lucky to have lovely, long, black hair.”

Violet couldn’t say anything in response, and merely hid her face in Harry’s shoulder as much as she possibly could without making either one of them uncomfortable.

Conversation was hard to start up after that.


	57. The Boy Who Lied

Violet remained quiet whilst they got into their robes, and then eventually off the train at Hogsmeade. She took the book back from Harry, putting it back into her bag and refraining from slipping her hand immediately into his. She knew he caught her fingers twitching towards him; this year was going to be difficult if they couldn’t simply hold hands without making their friends suspicious.

No matter, they would work with it. Somehow.

“Actually… can - can I have the hairband?” She properly reached out her hand. He handed it back to her, having decided to keep it on his wrist after they got changed.

Whilst Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna walked down the platform towards the carriages that would take them up to the school, Harry lingered behind with Violet, who twisted her hair up into a bun and tied it into place.

“How does it look?” she asked.

Harry tilted his head to the side in consideration. “Doesn’t look quite like you… but it’s still nice.”

“Thanks…” Violet mumbled. “Come on…”

They hurried to catch up with the others, who were currently waiting for another carriage to pull up. Cho waved at Harry from the one that just set off, and he awkwardly waved back. They only had to wait a few more moments for the next carriage, and when it arrived, Harry did a double take.

“What - what is that?” He was pointing at the front of it, but there wasn’t anything there. “What’s pulling the carriage?”

“I…” Violet couldn’t see anything where it should have been. “There’s nothing there, Harry. Sorry - I can’t see anything.”

“It’s pulling itself like always,” Hermione said, climbing in.

“You’re not going mad,” Luna chimed in. “I can see them too.”

Harry looked at Violet hopelessly, and she could only shrug with sympathy, before getting in. The roof was down this time - for once they weren’t heading up to school in torrential rain.

The seven of them were a little squished in, but no matter; the journey wasn’t going to be that long anyway.

“What did it -  _ does it _ \- look like?” Violet hissed to Harry on the way to the castle.

“Um - kind of bony - wait… you - you believe me?” he whispered back.

Her hazel eyes somehow grew more round as she looked him directly in the eye and nodded. “Yes. Of course I do. So tell me what it looks like and I can… find out what it is?”

“Later… it’s not that important.”

“Okay,” she squeaked out, and shuffled a bit closer to him.

By the time they reached Hogwarts, Violet felt a little better. Perhaps it was the fact she was starving for once, and she was eagerly awaiting the start of term feast. It was certainly a different feeling to last year, when she’d had that run in with Malfoy on the train and she felt unable to eat. Strange. She thought it would be the same - clearly not. She was actually hungry.

While Luna disappeared off to the Ravenclaw table, the remaining six friends all sat down as a group at the Gryffindor table; where unfortunately it seemed Seamus was giving Harry a bit of a wide berth. The gap between them at the table was noticeable, but Violet quietly muttered to Harry from across the table that it wasn’t worth the trouble for now.

The Sorting Hat sang a different kind of song this year - one about sticking together and uniting, which Harry and his friends deemed… interesting, in the very least. It unsettled them to a degree, but at least the Sorting Ceremony was a small pick-me-up. It was always good to welcome new students, even if it did mean that they were all ravenous by the time the food actually appeared on the table.

“Hagrid’s not up at the staff table,” Violet remarked as she helped herself to some roast potatoes. During the Sorting Ceremony she’d been scanning the table in question to see if she could try and figure out who would be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, only to catch sight of a particular toad faced woman that she regrettably recognised. “And… a woman from…  _ you know _ … is here.”

“What? Who?” Hermione hissed across the table at her.

Violet made a face. “The one in all the pink.”

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville all glanced up at the staff table to find the woman, and while most of them were confused, Hermione wasn’t.

“This isn’t good,” she said.

“You’re right,” Violet agreed. 

“I’m lost,” Ron said.

“Put two and two together, Ronald - why is a Ministry official here at Hogwarts?”

“‘Ronald?’” he repeated, a little offended. “Someone’s been spending too much time with Hermione…”

Violet raised an eyebrow. “And it’s still not enough…”

Harry hid a laugh behind a cough, leading Violet to lightly kick him in the shin. “Oi!”

“I was being serious about not spending enough time with Hermione.”

“Oh… right…” He reached down and rubbed his leg where she’d kicked it. As Violet took a sip of pumpkin juice, she shot Harry a sly wink. He understood what she meant. They really had to start keeping up the pretence now.

Regardless - that small moment was a segway for more lighthearted conversations between the friends during the feast, and it finally felt like the incident on the train was forgotten, as well as the fact that there was someone from the Ministry going to be present at Hogwarts that year.

As per usual, Violet only participated in half of the conversation, eventually sinking back out of it to merely listen to her friends. Except this time she listened with more fondness than curiosity. Sometimes it was nice to sit back and observe. She caught Harry’s eye at one stage, and she smiled at him for a brief moment, although she couldn’t help but notice him glancing over at Seamus every now and then.

Just as they were all finishing up dessert, Dumbledore took to his podium to address the school

“Good evening, children,” he began. “Now, we have two changes in staffing this year. We're pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank... who'll be taking Care of Magical Creatures... while Professor Hagrid is on temporary leave.”

The group of friends at the Gryffindor table all glanced at each other, worried.

“We also wish to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... Professor Dolores Umbridge,” Dumbledore continued, gesturing to the toad faced woman dressed in pink. “And I'm sure you'll all join me in wishing the professor good luck.”

The applause for their new professor was very scattered, with Violet electing not to participate. Her face was set like stone as she thought back to the appeal and how Umbridge had wanted to vote against her.

“Now, as usual, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you-”

Dumbledore was unfortunately cut off by Umbridge clearing her throat loudly. He turned to face her, and everyone could only watch as she slowly left her seat to also make her way around the staff table to say something to the school too.

“Thank you, headmaster, for those kind words of welcome,” her voice was somehow even  _ more _ sickly sweet. “And how lovely to see all your bright... happy faces smiling up at me. I’m sure we're all going to be very good friends.”

None of the students were amused.

“The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance,” she said firmly. “Although each headmaster has brought something new to this historic school…” She inclined her head towards Dumbeldore. “Progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved... perfect what can be perfected... and prune practices that ought to be prohibited.”

She let out a girly giggle before going to sit back down. Dumbledore started up yet another round of scattered applause after that woman’s speech, clearly somewhat befuddled by what she had to say.

“Thank you, Professor Umbridge. That really was most illuminating…”

“Illuminating? What a load of waffle!” Ron said.

“What's it mean?” Harry asked.

“It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts,” Hermione explained, finally.

“I have a funny feeling she won’t appreciate us in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry…” Violet said. “She doesn’t seem like the type to encourage anyone. So this  _ really _ isn’t good.”

They were all soon sent back to their Common Rooms, with their spirits agitated. Hermione and Ron had to go round up the first years, leaving Harry and Violet to walk with Neville and Ginny.

“Nobody hold me responsible for how I might speak to that woman in class,” Violet said.

“Why? What did she do at your hearing?” Ginny asked.

“Voted against me. And she’s very anti-werewolf.”

“Any takers on a bet?” Harry then suggested, something popping into his mind. Violet rolled her eyes and folded her arms.

“Go on. How do you plan on profiting off of my misery?”

“It’ll be interesting to see how long it takes for you and Umbridge to argue about werewolf rights, or something along those lines…”

Ginny scoffed. “I’m not brave enough to take that bet. Keep this one between yourselves, I reckon.”

“Ginny’s right,” Neville agreed.

“Five Sickles. And you’re not allowed to laugh,” Violet said after a few moments.

“Fine,” Harry said.

By the time they reached Gryffindor Tower, the password for the portrait had started floating around and plenty of people who had gotten there first were already settled in, enjoying their time in the Common Room before bed. Harry lingered in the doorway of the portrait hole once inside, tentative about going to find a seat somewhere.

“What’s wrong?” Violet asked him.

“Just… nothing, really. Not sure who would have…”

“Right. Come on,” she said. “There’s a nice spot by the fire.”

As she started to lead him there, Harry ended up approaching Seamus and Dean. Violet frantically tried to get him to come over to her, but she knew that he was still thinking about how Seamus had specifically avoided him at the dinner table.

A small argument broke out - namely due to the fact that Harry referred to Seamus’ mother as “stupid” for believing everything the  _ Daily Prophet _ had said about him, Dumbledore, and Voldemort. Violet hadn’t seen him so irate, and went back over to try and diffuse the situation, along with Ron who had just finished up his Prefect duties.

“Harry - Harry, come on-”

“What’s going on?” Ron asked.

“He’s mad is what’s going on!” Seamus cried out. The whole Common Room was staring at them now. “Do you believe the rubbish he’s come out with about You-Know-Who?”

“Yeah, I do,” Ron replied, defiantly. “Has anyone else got a problem with Harry?”

The rest of Gryffindor was silent, and Harry stormed off upstairs to the boy’s dormitory. Violet looked helplessly at Ron before he ran off upstairs after his best friend.

Sighing, and now playing with the ends of her hair, Violet went back to the spot by the fire she’d initially pointed out to Harry, being joined by Hermione shortly after.

“I’d imagine we’ve got to expect this a lot over the next few months,” Hermione said.

“Hopefully not for the whole year, though,” Violet replied.

Hermione surveyed her oddly. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm? Yes, I’m fine. The last time I saw him this angry it was just before Malfoy got turned into a ferret.” She pursed her lips. “I suppose he’ll be angry a lot this year…” That thought in particular was not a welcome one. Deep down, Violet knew Harry wouldn’t take a tone like that with her, but it was going to be a lot to deal with in secret when they were alone together…

“He’ll have his head on straight. It’ll be fine. Come on - early night, I think…”

As the pair of them headed on up to the girl’s dorm, they crossed paths with Ron and stopped to chat.

“Early night for you as well?” he asked. “Harry’s doing the same.”

“Right,” Violet said. “Is he…?”

“He wants to be left alone with his thoughts.” Ron seemed off.

“And are you okay?” she then asked.

Ron nodded, but didn’t say anything else as he moved past them on the stairs to go join his twin brothers in the Common Room.

“Lovely…” Violet murmured as they carried on up to their dormitory.

She’d been hoping for some peace once in there, but unfortunately not. Lavender Brown was rambling on to Parvati Patil about  _ The Daily Prophet _ just like everyone else seemed to be doing. Hermione and Violet remained very quiet, until-

“You don’t believe him do you?” Lavender asked the pair of them, who had been actively trying not to listen to what the girl was saying. “It’s all a load of rubbish, if you ask me.”

“Actually, we both do…” Violet said, trying to keep her voice as even as possible.

“You’re really going to take his word for it?” Lavender wasn’t impressed. “The  _ Prophet _ says-”

“ _ Really _ Lavender, you’re going to believe a load of old rubbish being reported by people who don’t have any idea what they’re talking about?!” Hermione snapped at her.

The girl sat down on her bed, her arms crossed defiantly. “And I thought you were more  _ logical _ than blindly believing what anyone says!”

“Harry’s telling the truth,” Violet said.

“Oh we all know  _ you _ would believe him. I mean, no offence, Violet, but you’re a bit quick to jump to Harry’s side, aren’t you? I’d say you’re more blind than Hermione-”

“Shut it!” Violet screeched at Lavender, her face growing red. “Stop talking about things you have  _ no bloody idea _ about! He has done  _ nothing _ wrong to you! To anyone! Why would he lie about how Cedric died, hmm?”

Violet balled her fists so tightly that her knuckles grew white, as she awaited a response from Lavender, who somehow remained unphased by the outburst.

“What’s got your wand in a knot? Crushing on Potter again, are we? Is that why you believe him?”

She inhaled sharply, and quietly said, “that has  _ nothing _ to do with it.”

Lavender’s jaw dropped when she realised what Violet was on about.

Violet turned away from the girl and towards Hermione, who was as equally shocked that she’d even admitted that. “Don’t say a word. Don’t you say a single word - you already knew this. I’m just confirming to them what they guessed. It doesn’t matter.”  _ It didn’t matter because if only they knew how much deeper it really went… _ she thought to herself.

She then got into her pyjamas and hopped onto her bed, drawing the curtains shut around her. She didn’t bother to say good night to anyone. Not tonight. Not any night after that not - not now she had to share a dormitory with someone who thought her boyfriend was crazy.

Violet fell into an uneasy, restless sleep that night.


	58. Umbridge

The next morning proved that tensions hadn’t exactly simmered down after a good night’s sleep.

An awkward atmosphere hung around in the girl’s dormitory that morning while they all got ready for school. Lavender was rather antsy to get out, and tried hurrying Parvati along with her; the other girl merely remarked she’d meet her down in the Great Hall for breakfast, leaving both Violet and Hermione confused.

“Um… about last night…” Parvati said, addressing Violet directly. “I’m sorry about Lavender, and I’m  _ really _ sorry about the jab she made about you having a crush on Harry.”

Violet gave her a curt nod as she tied her hair up into a bun. Parvati took that as her signal to go and met her friend, but she hovered at the door.

“For what it’s worth - if Harry actually opened his eyes - I think you two would be really sweet together.  _ Especially _ after seeing you both at the Yule Ball…”

With those words, she left. Violet was flabbergasted, Hermione amused.

“Harry  _ has _ opened his eyes,” she commented, causing Violet to go red. “A lot more than before the summer, I have to say.”

“Well - he’s hardly the most observant person. He didn’t even realise there were at least three versions of you running around the school at one time in our third year.” Violet picked up her bag and started walking towards the door of the dormitory, but then Hermione jumped in front of her, blocking her exit.

“Something happened over the summer, didn’t it?”

Violet clucked her tongue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The blazer. Going up to that room in Padfoot’s house…” Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “What happened?”

“What do you want me to tell you, Hermione?!” Violet raised her voice, tetchy. “That me and Harry are secretly in love?! Or - or - or - god forbid - we had underage sex all those times he was up in that room with me?! Or maybe - and I think this is the most realistic answer - maybe I grew closer with him because I didn’t blindly follow an old man’s orders about keeping information about Voldemort secret from the one person who should know it!”

She took a deep breath after that, her cheeks even more flushed than before and a guilt filling her for snapping at Hermione like that. Violet’s shoulders sagged, and she pinched the bridge of her nose on seeing that her friend was visibly hurt.

“I’m - I’m sorry, Hermione.”

“No… no it’s fine,” her voice was timid, faraway. She sniffed. “I’m sorry. It’s not my business unless either of you two decide to tell me or Ron. And you’re right, actually. He and I did blindly follow Dumbledore. We felt awful for it at the end of the day, but - well, we still did it, didn’t we?”

“Yeah… there’s always the chance you and Ron made the more sensible decision anyway. I mean, look where it got me for half the summer: alone and resenting my own mother,” Violet said, fighting back tears that sprang to her eyes. She shook herself out of that pretty quickly. “And um - we - we really are just closer than before. The - the sex comment was a  _ very _ throwaway example. We really did just spend all that time talking.”

“No, of course, I completely get that.” Hermione was clearly trying to hold back something else, and Violet rolled her eyes.

“Please just say whatever you’re thinking?”

“We’re all angry about how Harry is being treated, but don’t snap at  _ me _ . Snap at Lavender, she could use it a little more often,” Hermione said haughtily, finally leaving the dormitory. Violet remained there stumped for a few moments before she followed.

The boys were waiting for the pair of them in the Common Room, with Hermione reaching them a few moments before Violet did. As terrible as they were at reading female friendships, Harry and Ron did note that something was amiss between the two girls. They were both sensible enough not to bring attention to it, the four of them opting to walk to the Great Hall in silence.

It didn’t help that Harry was obviously in a mood as well, something of which  _ did _ get talked about once they were settled and with their new timetables.

“Is everything alright Harry?” Hermione asked politely.

“Seamus really can’t stand to sleep in the same room as me…” Harry murmured before buttering some toast. “Dean’s a bit… well - Dean’s being nice. But he’s obviously Seamus’ best friend so…” he shrugged, trying to play it off.

“I take it he carried on once you were all upstairs?”

Harry nodded in response.

“Lavender was the exact same last night,” she then added, gloomily.

“Brilliant. You were all having a good chat about me then?”

“Actually I yelled at her before Hermione could,” Violet piped up, shooting him a strange look. “Considering it was only our first night back, we couldn’t have Lavender completely terrified to be in the same room as us for the rest of the year.”

She and Hermione then glanced at each other, exchanging tiny smiles as all was forgiven between the pair of them in that moment.

“Funnily enough, we  _ are _ on your side, Harry, remember?” Hermione then continued on, something of which Violet was grateful for as she pulled out a book to read whilst eating her cereal. She didn’t particularly want to fall out with Harry. “We’ll be telling people to shut up where necessary, so don’t assume so quickly…”

“Right. Yeah. Sorry…” he mumbled.

Violet had to resist shaking her head at the current level of stupidity her boyfriend was displaying - then again, she supposed Seamus had probably gotten to him good last night.

“Moving on swiftly… we should probably prepare for the amount of work we’re going to get set this year,” Violet then said. “ _ And _ absolutely no copying off of myself or Hermione this time. We can help, but there are limits.”

The boys groaned, while Hermione tried not to look too pleased with what Violet had said.

“Don’t two start!” Hermione snapped lightly. “Violet’s right. This is the year we have to consider what we might want to do after Hogwarts… We’ll have to pick our N.E.W.Ts carefully.”

“I dunno,” Ron said. “Haven’t really thought about it much - but being an Auror would be cool, wouldn’t it, Harry?”

“Yeah, I guess. That or teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts would be pretty cool too,” Harry answered.

“I’d fancy doing something worthwhile,” Hermione said.

“Being an Auror  _ is _ worthwhile! Go on - what about you, Vi?” Ron asked her.

“I want to be a Healer,” she said, shrugging modestly.

“Now  _ that’s _ worthwhile,” Hermione told the boys, but Violet wasn’t entirely convinced.

“I mean - it’s more  _ noble _ than anything. Besides, dad’s a Healer. It just seems like a really interesting profession to get into. Wouldn’t hurt to be able to help look after other people, you know…”

“That does explain why you put a lot of effort into Potions,” Harry remarked, a pensive look on his face.

“You should be putting effort into Potions anyway…” She adored Harry - she really did - but sometimes he was quite dense. It was certainly a miracle he’d survived this long without utilising his brain properly. That thought alone made her smirk as she got back to her book.

“What?”

She covered up a giggle with a subtle clearing of her throat instead. “Nothing,” she replied, turning a page in her book and electing to drop out of the conversation entirely. When Violet was certain that Ron and Hermione were particularly engrossed with arguing about  _ something _ stupid - as ever - she risked a glance up at Harry, who caught her eye and smirked himself.

That most definitely set the tone for the day - for the year, at the very least.

The morning lessons were easy enough that day, even if History of Magic was painfully boring as ever. One form of entertainment came in Violet constantly nudging Harry’s shin under the table so that he actually took notes on what Professor Binns was saying. Eventually he scrawled something on a spare bit of parchment to her.

_ Can’t I just copy your notes later? _ It said in his messy scrawl.

Violet paused in her own notetaking to write back to him.  _ You’re not even trying to pay attention. _

_ I am! He’s boring. _

_ I know that, but come on… _

That effectively started a war between the two of them.

_ Please? _

_ No. _

_ I’ll go out with you if you do. _

Violet started snickering with her hand clapped over her mouth in an effort to mute the noise. She managed to write something back underneath.  _ You know how to strike a bargain, Potter… _

Harry raised an eyebrow at that.  _ So is that a yes? You’ll let me copy your notes from this lesson later and I get to take you out? _

She figured the turn of phrase he used warranted a bit of fun on her part.  _ Just to clarify: that’s to take me out on a date and not take me out by murder? _

They were both giggling quietly at this point.

_ Obviously a date… _

_ Where? _

_ It’ll have to be Hogsmeade… _

_ True… when? _

_ First Hogsmeade trip of the year? _

_ Done deal. You can copy off me all you like for History of Magic. Don’t tell Hermione. _

“What the hell are you two playing at?!” Ron hissed as he leaned forward over his and Hermione’s desk to stick his head between the pair of them. Violet hastily grabbed the shared parchment and slid it underneath her actual work. “What’s that?”

“Nothing… nothing…” she insisted. “Playing hangman…”

“Hangman?”

“Muggle game,” Harry said swiftly. “Come on, Ron, pay attention to Binns. The girls said no copying this year…”

Ron wasn’t entirely sold on that, but sat back in his seat rather gloomily as he tried his best to pay attention to Binns for the rest of the hour they were with the ghost. Harry made notes where he could, murmuring a thank you to Violet on their way out as she slipped him her parchment for later on.

Potions wasn’t much better - if anything, it was a more intense affair. Violet managed to save Harry’s neck by reminding him about the Syrup of Hellabore that needed to be added to his Draught of Peace before he moved onto the next instruction. A mistake, on her part, as Snape wasn’t happy that Harry had actually managed to brew a Potion somewhat successfully.

“Five points from Gryffindor,” he said with a sneer, causing all the Gryffindors in the classroom to groan.

“Professor-” Violet tried to object.

“Miss Merryworth, I’d suggest shutting your mouth unless you want to lose an additional five points for your house. You’re not going to be able to mutter instructions to Mr Potter in his exam, are you?”

She became very tight lipped after that.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, that particular moment had sparked up the Slytherins to start using the “Mad Merryworth” nickname again. She didn’t care too much about it this time around, considering it was for an entirely different reason.

“If that’s what they’re going for because I’m sticking up for Harry in all ways, then  _ fine, _ ” she huffed on their way to lunch.

“Bloody hell, Vi, you’re on one today aren’t you?” Ron commented.

“I need to be if we have Defence Against the Dark Arts last thing today,” she replied. “It’s hard to be afraid if you’re annoyed enough.”

“Yeah, but… didn’t think I’d ever hear you try and dispute Snape.”

“Let’s be real: with the vendetta he has against Harry, the fact he  _ really  _ dislikes Hermione, I think five points lost was the bare minimum he could have done to Gryffindor today.”

Even Hermione couldn’t disagree with that, but raised an interesting point thereafter.

“I thought he might have… changed…” she said quietly. “Since you know…”

“Poisonous toads can’t change their spots,” Ron said.

Naturally that led to the pair of them bickering enough about Snape and Dumbledore’s decisions over lunch to the point that Harry went off to Divination early. He’d had enough of it for the day, clearly, and Violet could see why.

“Are you two capable of going a year without some kind of argument?” she asked the pair of them calmly. That certainly caused them to reconsider what they had been fighting about, and lunch passed by relatively quietly after that.

Divination was perhaps worse than History of Magic, but Violet reminded herself she only had one more year of that godforsaken subject before she could drop it entirely. All she needed was an Acceptable in her Divination O.W.L and that was it: no more cop out subjects for her. She only half paid attention to what Trelawney was saying, and soon enough came the moment she’d been dreading.

Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Everyone filtered into the classroom since Umbridge hadn’t arrived yet, and were playfully messing around. Someone had charmed an origami swan to fly around the classroom which naturally got them all in a good mood: they were all playfully hitting it about to each other, throwing things at it to keep it moving, and then it erupted into flames.

The burnt swan drifted down to Parvati’s desk.

“Good afternoon, children,” Umbridge said from the back of the classroom. Everybody turned towards her, unamused, and not sure if they should even respond. She offered them her signature sickly smile instead. “I said: good afternoon, children.”

There were murmurs of “good afternoon” in response as she wandered to the front of the classroom.

“Now that won’t do. If I address you all, I expect a ‘good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,’ or a ‘yes, Professor Umbridge,’ or ‘no, Professor Umbridge,’ is that understood?” she asked them, when at the front of the classroom.

“Yes, Professor Umbridge,” the class chanted in unison at her.

It only went downhill from there.

Textbooks were handed out that really took them back to the basics of the subject. Hermione was queried about the fact there was nothing in the textbooks about using defensive spells - to which Umbridge was frankly appalled about the mere notion of.

“How do you expect us to do well in the practical part of our exams?” Violet piped up, feeling particularly courageous.

“If you learn the theory well enough, Miss Merryworth, then you will pass your practical exams with no trouble at all!”

Dean raised his hand, and Umbridge called on him.

“Yes, Mr-?”

“Thomas. Dean Thomas.” He lowered his hand. “Violet’s right - how are we meant to do well in the practical exam? Surely we need to  _ practise _ the spells in class and get them right instead of just blindly throwing us into the exam with no practice at all!”

Umbridge was very insistent and held steadfast about there not being any need to practice spells in class, and that it wasn’t the Ministry approved way to go with lessons. She deemed it too dangerous. That only added fuel to the fire, and made Harry absolutely lose it.

The Voldemort conversation came up. It made everyone else except for him fall to silence.

Violet trod on his foot in a pleading effort to get him to stop talking, but he kept going - he kept going, provoking their teacher to the point she  _ shouted _ at him. And gave him detentions every evening for the rest of the week for good measure. Violet took her foot off of Harry’s.

The rest of the lesson passed by in silence as they read through the first chapter of their textbooks and made notes.

_ You okay?  _ Violet wrote on a separate piece of parchment, sliding it over to Harry.

_ I’m fine. _ He scribbled back, then added:  _ I’m mad. _

_ I know. It’s okay. Be careful though. _

_ Yeah. _

As Umbridge started doing rounds in the room, Violet hid the parchment and carried on working, suddenly feeling nervous as the toad’s beady eyes fixed on her for some time as she passed by. She did her best to ignore it, but couldn’t help but notice the slight narrowing of her teacher’s eyes as they flicked back and forth between her and Harry.

_ She’s got her eye on us. _ Violet wrote to Harry when Umbridge was back at her desk. He didn’t write a response, but merely gave a subtle, curt nod to show he’d acknowledge what she’d pointed out.

Class couldn’t end quick enough. The rest of the hour passed by far too slowly for anyone’s liking.

“Miss Merryworth?” Umbridge called over to Violet, just as she was leaving the classroom with her friends. Heart jumping into her throat, Violet turned back around to her teacher.

“Yes, Professor Umbridge?” she said, not forgetting the need to say the woman’s full name and title when addressing her. She could feel a sweat beading on her palms - all confidence from earlier on fading fast.  _ What had she done?  _ She’d only asked one fair question after all. Was that enough to be held back?

“Come here, please.”

Violet nodded and steadily made her way back to the woman’s desk. She gulped nervously as she took in Umbridge’s horrific little smile.

“Is there something wrong, Professor Umbridge?” Violet asked politely. Surely there couldn’t be anything wrong - as much as Harry had been in the right, she hadn’t been as outspoken as him and therefore earned a detention.

“No, not yet, dear,” she replied cryptically. “I sincerely hope you won’t be causing any trouble in my class, considering your… ah, transgressions, over the summer?”

Violet’s breath hitched in her throat, a sudden fear gripping her tightly as her chest felt like it was constricting. She hadn’t been expecting that in the slightest. Trying not to let her shock show, she shook her head stiffly. “No - no, Professor Umbridge.” It was hard to talk. She wasn’t even consciously holding her breath, but mentally reminded herself to breathe.

“I also notice you’re very good friends with Mr Potter. There won’t be any lying in my class either, I trust?” It was the seriousness in Umbridge’s voice that scared Violet the most. The woman may have sounded like honey, but her thoughts were far from it.

“No, Professor Umbridge.”

“As for your connections outside of Hogwarts…” Umbridge tilted her head to the side, sizing up Violet. “Well, we’ll see what happens about your mail, hmm?”

“I - I’m sorry?”

“How often do you write to Mr Lupin during school time?”

She stuffed her hands inside her pockets, desperately wiping them and clutching the interior fabric of her robes. “Not - not that often, Professor Umbridge.”

“I see. Now off you pop. I’m sure you have some studying to do for the rest of this afternoon.”

Violet nodded and turned on her heel, keeping her head held high as she left the classroom to find that her friends were anxiously waiting for her. Wide eyed and very mechanical, Violet gestured for them to start moving, wanting to get away from the classroom that had once been a sacred spot for her.

Once they were down an empty corridor, Violet leaned back against a wall, and, inhaling very deeply, sank down to the floor with her head in her palms, shaking. She sniffed once, and the tears started to flow freely, struggling to let her next breath in as her chest kept going through that awful constricting feeling. All that came out was a harsh squeak that nestled at the back of her throat.

“Blimey…” murmured Ron.

“Violet…” Hermione’s voice was gentle next to her, as was the hand on her shoulder. Violet looked up to see all three of her friends were crouching on the ground next to her. Ron wasn’t entirely sure how to react, Hermione was merely concerned, and Harry’s face was set in a quiet, subtle anger because of what Umbridge had reduced Violet down to.

“What did she say?” Harry muttered quietly as he shuffled to sit next to her, shoulder to shoulder.

“T-transgressions. Summer. You. R-Remus…” Violet could only get out one word answers while she tried to calm herself down. She started coughing in an effort to kick start her lungs properly - it worked to an extent. She could breathe properly again, but she was still crying and a little shaky. “I’ve - I’ve not been that scared of a teacher before.”

“What did she say about Remus?” Hermione asked her.

“How often I wrote to him…” Violet wiped her eyes and tried to shake herself out of it. “At the Ministry, she implied they shouldn’t have been asking him to be my witness on the basis of him being a werewolf.”

“Oh my god…”

“She’s  _ really _ bad news. If class today wasn’t enough to prove that, I think her prejudices do,” Violet sighed. Automatically, she went to grab what should have been her long braid so she could fiddle with it, only to be met with nothing. Right. She reached up for her bun and let it loose, finally running her fingers through her hair. “First day back and all I want to do is lie down right now. I’m exhausted.”

Harry shrugged. “Do it, then. You look...” His lips drew into a thin line, not particularly wanting to finish that sentence.

“Yeah. I think I know.”

“Come on,” Harry said, helping her up. He took her bag for her as well, avoiding the gazes that Ron and Hermione gave him as they stood too. “Hermione can wake you up before dinner…”

Violet hummed in agreement, looping her arm through Harry’s as the four of them walked back up to the Common Room. It was the closest form of comfort she could get from him right now, and she wasn’t sure when they’d even get to be alone together again.

* * *

“She’s really out of it,” Hermione said, coming down from the girl’s dormitory. It was dinner time, and as promised, she’d gone to go and wake up Violet, who was still apparently in no fit state to be joining anyone for dinner.

“I’ve never seen her like that before,” Ron said as the three of them started on their way down to the Great Hall. He frowned. “I don’t think I’ve seen  _ anyone _ like that before.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s not exactly common for people to be having panic attacks all over the place, Ronald…”

“What?” he said at the same time as Harry.

“Violet had a panic attack. Quite possibly a one off if Umbridge was threatening her, but they don’t leave you feeling up to anything.” She paused for a moment. “Harry, you've seen Violet on her off days. Has she ever-?”

“Nope,” Harry said. “I mean, I’ve seen her cry - sure - but never like that. That was… I dunno. It sounded like she couldn’t breathe?”

“Typically that can happen, yes…” Hermione’s brow was knotted with worry. “I hope this doesn’t become frequent. She’s never been scared of a teacher before. Wary - yes, of Moody - but not this. I don’t want to see her confidence come crashing down. Not now.”

“The whole situation with her mum left her precarious enough…” Harry murmured. “She’ll be fine though. I know she will.”

Hermione wasn’t entirely convinced - not with the comment about Violet’s mother. “Right… is there any chance of Violet actually forgiving Genevive at this rate?”

“Not yet. S’pose being here away from her will help,” Harry sighed deeply. There was still a bubbling anger under the surface of his skin about all of it - about Genevive, about Umbridge, about the current state of his favourite subject at Hogwarts.

And he most certainly wasn’t looking forward to detention later on either.


	59. Quidditch Practice, Fifth Year

As far as first weeks of school went, it ended up going well for Violet after the blip on the first day - but somehow she was blissfully ignorant to what was going on in Harry’s detentions. She noticed how he was incredibly tired the morning after his first detention, and even though she asked him what had happened, his response was “writing lines.”

She was suspicious, that was for sure. What didn’t help was his spirit slowly being crushed throughout the day as more and more work was piled onto them. He and Ron even went to the library in a last ditch attempt to get a head start on Transfiguration homework because they’d absolutely failed on their Vanishing Spells. Violet and Hermione had been lucky on that front, with the former taking five attempts before succeeding, the latter only three. They had earned Gryffindor ten points each from McGonagall.

If anything, Violet was glad that she was just about keeping on top of the immense workload they’d been given in the first couple of days. Her only worries were Umbridge and Harry.

She tried not to let it show - considering Ron and Hermione were completely fine about the fact that Harry had only said he was “writing lines” - but his exhaustion earlier that morning hadn’t gone unnoticed by Violet.

So naturally, when he went off for an early dinner and his five o’clock detention, Violet decided she’d stay up in the Common Room working until he got back. Hermione opted for the library, while Ron disappeared entirely, which left Violet on her own at one of the tables. Truthfully, even she was at the brink of demotivation when seeing the stack of textbooks she’d gotten out when carrying on with homework that day. Day two, and every subject had handed them homework so far.

Fifth year was something else, to say the least.

She must have been an hour into Potions homework when Ginny slid into the seat opposite her.

“Doing alright, Vi?” the redhead asked her. Violet nodded, barely looking up from her essay on the properties of moonstone.

“What’s up, Ginny? I’ve got quite a bit of work to get through-”

“Oh! Oh, I know, I just wanted to ask if you still wanted to try out for the Quidditch team?”

Violet finally looked up at Ginny, and raised an eyebrow. “Are  _ you _ trying out for the Quidditch team?”

“Probably not,” she replied with a shrug. “It’s for Keeper. I’m more of a Chaser.”

“Keeper? I struggle to throw a Quaffle, let alone defend a goal post…”

Ginny laughed. “Come on - it can’t be  _ that _ bad!”

“I… well, when Harry came to stay at mine for his fourteenth birthday, we played a bit of Quidditch with dad. Hardly Quidditch, actually, but for the life of me I could  _ not _ keep my balance…”

Ginny considered that for a moment, but shrugged. “If you’re Keeper, you don’t have to throw the Quaffle or catch it - just… block it.”

“Hmm… you see - you make it sound so simple, Ginny, but I think my hand-eye coordination would disagree…” Violet murmured, getting back to her work. She didn’t have time for this, and as much as she liked the Weasley girl, she did have a stack of homework to finish off.

“Come on, Vi-”

She sighed so deeply that it shut the other girl up quickly. Realising how it had come across, Violet pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ask me again tomorrow over breakfast? Sorry, Ginny, but I  _ really _ need to get this finished…”

“Ah, yea, sure - sorry, Vi…” With a sheepish smile, Ginny left her in peace. It felt like she could breathe again now that she was in her own space.

Violet lost track of time in her homework, managing to rattle through Herbology and Potions, becoming alarmed upon seeing Ron had joined her around nine o’clock at night, questioning Harry’s whereabouts.

“Oh!” Violet was slightly frazzled when Ron spoke to her, before she became very suspicious of where Harry actually was. “He’s… not back from detention yet. Or maybe he just… went to the library…” A delicate frown had beset her face, and she leaned back in her chair to gaze out the window.

_ Was she trying to make up an excuse for the fact his detention had gone on suspiciously long? _

Now that night had fallen outside, she momentarily became distracted by the clear skies, thoughts of flying on a broom drifting through her mind as she stared at the open expanse before her. She thought she could see the appeal of attempting to go for a spot on the team. Maybe being Keeper wouldn’t be such a bad idea…

“Vi? Vi?” Ron snapped his fingers in front of her face and she turned away from the window, suddenly aware of the fact he’d been talking to her this whole time. “You alright?”

“Hmm?” She shook herself out of her stupor. “Yes. Um, what did you need help with?”

“Potions, if you wouldn’t mind…”

She nodded, and got to work with him. Violet didn’t let Ron copy - oh no, she was sticking to her guns with that one - but asked him all the right questions that would at least help guide him in the right direction. They managed to get through about half of his essay before Hermione came back from the library, saying that she and Ron needed to do their Prefect duties before it got  _ too _ late. It was about ten o’clock at this point, and there was  _ still _ no sign of Harry.

The Common Room was beginning to empty out as everyone else started to head to bed, but Violet remained. She wouldn’t be leaving until Harry got back and she could ask him precisely why his detention was taking as long as it did. She didn’t care if she had to wait up until midnight or later - it was day two and there was absolutely no need for him to already begin falling behind on his work because of  _ Umbridge. _

She picked up her Transfiguration homework next. She sat reading through the textbook first, making bullet points about everything she needed, slowly but surely her head feeling heavier and heavier…

“Violet?”

She was being shaken awake by none other than Harry himself. She glanced down at her Transfiguration textbook, and then at the clock - it was about ten past midnight. Violet rubbed her eyes and scowled at Harry as he settled himself opposite her.

“Where have you been?”

“Detention,” he said simply, getting his Potions homework out.

“Really? Umbridge had you there for seven hours?”

He nodded solemnly, before raking his hands through his hair in a distressed manner as he stared down at what his homework entailed. Violet softened on seeing how stressed he was, and even more so when she noticed his right hand was bright red, with what looked like the beginnings of a strange mark becoming etched into it.

Violet reached across the table and took hold of it, causing him to hiss in pain. He almost tore his hand back, but when Harry realised how tender she was being, he let her keep hold of it. She tilted her head to the side as she tried to make out what the marking was.

“I… I must not tell… lies…” she breathed. She looked at Harry with horror. “You said she was making you write lines!”

“She is,” he replied darkly. “With a quill that uses blood. So that the message - when written enough-”

“Is marked permanently on your hand,” Violet sighed. “I’ve read about those. It’s abuse -  _ torture!  _ I’m assuming you’re not going to be telling McGonagall about this, are you?”

He looked at her oddly, finally taking his hand back. “I… no… I’m not. How did you-?”

“Considering you didn’t tell any of us what happened yesterday, there’s no use in convincing you to go to McGonagall, is there?”

Harry shook his head. “No. I don’t want to give Umbridge the satisfaction. Please don’t mention this to Ron and Hermione? I’ll tell them soon…”

“I won’t. Promise,” she replied softly, before fishing out her Potions homework and handing it to him. “I know I said you shouldn’t copy, but I don’t think I can stand to see Snape treat you horribly if you don’t do well in your homework. Reword it. I can stay up a bit longer with you if you want, I’ve finished up Herbology-”

“Go to bed,” he insisted. “You were asleep when I got here. You don’t need to wait up for me.”

“I was worried about you. Of course I did.”

“I know. But go and sleep. One of us needs to be a bit more refreshed tomorrow.”

“Right…” Violet started to pack up her things, slinging her bag over her shoulder and then approaching Harry on the other side of the table. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Vi,” he replied quietly, quickly giving her hand a gentle squeeze before she retired for the night. She was barely halfway up the stairs when Harry called after her, and she curiously turned back to see he was at the bottom of the stairwell.

“I - I didn’t ask, but - are you okay? After yesterday?”

“Oh!” She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised by the question. “I - I’m okay today. Sleeping really helped. Hopefully it won’t happen again, though.”

“If it does, you can’t blame me if I lose my temper in front of her again,” he said.

“That’s sweet of you, but-”

“I don’t wanna see that woman reduce you to a shell, Vi,” he said firmly, and it made her heart swell to what felt like three times its size. “She’s not doing that to you.”

A lump in her throat about how defensive Harry was being, Violet couldn’t string together another coherent sentence. Instead she merely nodded and hurried on up to bed with tears welling in her eyes as she got into her pyjamas. They were a mixture of happiness and worry, because she was questioning why Harry would go through that kind of torture by himself but  _ still _ put himself in harm’s way for her?

She fell asleep in a strange mood that night, but was pleasantly surprised to find that the next morning - although Harry was clearly tired after staying up late to finish up  _ some _ homework (he slipped her back her Potions parchment on the sly) - he was clearly a little chirpier. He did admit to her during lunch when they retreated to the library to do their Divination homework that he’d been having a strange dream about a locked door at the end of a corridor; that still couldn’t dampen his spirits.

“Also - what was Ginny talking to you about this morning at breakfast? You two were pretty… hush hush,” he then remarked.

“Ah. That,” Violet clucked her tongue as she pored over her Divination textbook. “I’m going to try out for Keeper on Friday. We’re having a practice session this evening. She helps me with that, and in return I’m helping her out with some trickier Transfiguration. Only seemed fair.”

He couldn’t help himself - he laughed.

“What?!” Violet snapped. “I thought  _ you _ of all people would be supportive of the idea!”

“No! No - I am,” Harry quickly saved himself. “I find it funny you and Ginny cut a deal, that’s all! I’m not laughing about you trying for Keeper. I think - I think it’s good - great, even - that you want to go a bit further than just books and Potions.”

She raised a questioning eyebrow at that statement, mock anger on her face. If anything she found it highly amusing that Harry was apparently coming out with accidental backhanded compliments.

“I - I just mean that - you know… we’ve been trying to get you on a broom for  _ years _ …” He was growing steadily redder and redder. “And the only reason you’re doing it is because you… made a deal with Ginny…”

Violet put down her quill and leaned across the table towards Harry so that their faces were only inches apart. “Would you like me to throw you a rope so you can get out of that hole you’re digging?” Very briskly, she brushed her lips across his own and promptly returned to her homework. Cheeks pink, Violet carried on as if she hadn’t done that, leaving Harry bemused.

“That was bold for you,” he muttered, also going back to Divination, frantically scribbling  _ something _ of merit down.

“Don’t expect it again any time soon,” she replied, coolly. “That’s more your forte, I think.”

“What? Being bold?”

“That, and your awkward flirting…” She was nearly as red as him. “It’s more fun when you make me flustered.”

How either of them were able to concentrate in Divination after that, Violet had no clue. She couldn’t look him in the eye properly, and Ron was left to wonder what on  _ earth _ had happened in the library that lunch time.

True to her word, when Harry went off for his five o’clock detention with Umbridge, Violet found herself walking down the grounds with Ginny, Firebolt in hand - Harry had been happy to loan it to her, since she’d already taken a spin on it.

“On Friday you’ll have to use one of the old Cleansweeps,” Ginny pointed out.

“I know,” Violet replied. “Could hardly refuse this though, could I?”

Ginny smirked. “No, I suppose not.”

Violet eyed her oddly as they headed onto the pitch. “What’s that look for?”

“You’ve  _ definitely _ been flirting with Harry!”

Violet rubbed the back of her neck, mildly uncomfortable and very sheepish all in one. “Well - I wouldn’t call it flirting-”

“Oh come off it - you  _ so _ have. About time too.”

“You’re - you’re not annoyed?”

“Why would I be annoyed?”

Violet gulped. “It’s just - well, Bill may have mentioned something last summer… it’s why I kept very quiet about my own feelings for Harry.”

“Ah. That.” Ginny chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment, before shrugging. “No harm done, really. If I’m being completely honest I saw you two at the Yule Ball and thought: okay. Maybe Harry’s got his eye on someone else. It started to fade off then.”

“But in the summer-”

“Most likely because me and him had spent a lot of time together,” she explained as casually as possible. “I never meant to get some quiet whenever the pair of you came up in conversation. It was bad of me, really. All I’m gonna say is if you really are into him - if you really will date him one day - please look after him. He’s special that one, and I know you already  _ do _ look after him, but-”

Violet cut across her. “I get it. I really do. Any good friend would say the same. Look, I can’t stand seeing him hurt when he gets himself into trouble - or when trouble comes finding him and gets him involved - so I don’t think I could live with myself if I actually did anything to break his heart if we did date.”

“Bit deep.”

“You started it, Weasley,” Violet said, an eyebrow raised.

Laughing, Ginny swept her long hair back over her shoulder. “Okay,  _ Merryworth _ , let’s see you do a couple of laps. I’ll go grab the Quaffle after, and then… just position yourself over by the goal posts and we can get started.”

Violet nodded, mounting the broomstick and setting off - a little wobbly at first - around the pitch. She thanked her lucky stars that she had a bit more control over the Firebolt this time in comparison to when she rode it during her third year and nearly vomited. The memory of it brought a smile to her face as she completed her first lap; she slowed down on seeing that Ginny had taken to the air and was hovering in the centre of the pitch, Quaffle under one arm.

She sped up again after that, far too aware of the fact she was being watched. Either way - Violet knew Ginny was there to help, so tried to go a bit faster. The result of that was she found it trickier to slow down to a more normal speed; she nearly fell off the broom, but saved herself at the last possible second as she skidded to a halt.

Ginny flew over to her.

“Not bad. You have decent enough control,  _ and _ it may come as a shock to you, but you  _ are _ a natural flier. Down to your dad, I suppose?”

“Probably,” Violet murmured. “Fancy throwing the Quaffle at me?”

“Yeah, go on then.”

Violet zipped over to one end of the pitch, her heart racing. What if she was absolutely useless and couldn’t stop Gnny from scoring? She was all too aware of how well the girl played, and quite frankly Violet didn’t feel like embarrassing herself. She tried not to let her nerves show as Ginny came zooming towards her, all the while the thought of  _ don’t be stupid _ echoed through her mind.

As she saw Ginny go to make a throw to her left, Violet panicked and zoomed in that direction, colliding with the Quaffle and going spinning. She steered the Firebolt in the opposite direction in an attempt to slow down and come to a halt, which thankfully worked. Heavy breathing, Violet looked at her friend to see she was quite shocked.

“Well… that worked! Wouldn’t recommend doing it again though.”

“You think?” Violet retorted as she flew back toward the goal posts while Ginny retrieved the Quaffle.

It went on like that for the next half an hour. Ginny going full speed to the goal posts and Violet trying her best to save it. She missed at least two thirds of the shots Ginny made, but the one third that she did save she ended up being quite proud of herself. She still struggled with the balance on her broom whenever removing a hand from it to defend the hoops, but she was able to do  _ something  _ worthwhile with it.

Eventually Violet called it a night and suggested they go do homework instead, thoroughly exhausted.

As they walked back up to the castle, they started chatting again. “Maybe I shouldn’t try out for the team,” she said conclusively.

“Why not?”

“I can’t improve much more than that. I  _ hate _ taking my hands off the broom…” she said with a shudder. “I’m much better at racing around the pitch rather than playing an actual game.”

“Come on, Vi,” Ginny groaned. “You can’t be any worse than whoever else is planning to try out!”

“Honestly, I appreciated the help, but… I’m not sold.” Violet was uneasy. “I don’t think Angelina would want me wasting her time. Besides - I dread to think how my nerves would cope in front of people playing Quidditch. It was bad enough with you!”

“You got nervous in front of me?!”

“Well yeah, you’re really good at Quidditch, Ginny…” Violet murmured, electing to take her hand down from the bun it had been in. She noted how her friend watched the black mess cascade down in a chaotic waterfall, a little mesmerised.

“Oh come on - you said you would,” Ginny eventually said, snapping out of it.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Violet said with a shrug. “I will just… go to the matches, and show my support.”

“I bet you will…” Ginny winked at her.

Violet nudged her playfully with her elbow. Admittedly, while she’d come out of this evening no longer liking the idea of joining the Quidditch team in the slightest, she’d had fun with Ginny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was re-reading OotP the other day and honestly I think I prefer the less instant effect of the quill on Harry in the books - in that it takes time for the cut to appear. So I've gone down that route. The OotP section of this fic will be very much a mix of book/movie based events. Hope you're all enjoying still!


	60. Loneliness Sells

The first week of term managed to end on a high, what with Ron becoming the new Gryffindor Keeper - even though he wasn’t too enthused about it. Harry insisted that however bad Ron thought he was going to be - it didn’t matter, because they would have plenty of time to practice before the first match.

Harry’s detentions were over, but he bore a permanent reminder of them on the back of his hand. Nothing that some Murtlap Essence couldn’t help soothe, according to Hermione and Violet. Unfortunately, his mood started to sour over the course of time. It didn’t matter that he was no longer in detention, they still had to attend lessons with Umbridge. Not to mention, the ever growing tower of homework they were receiving from teachers.

Violet had taken it upon herself to organise him, since she was about the only person he would actually listen to nowadays.

“I relent,” she said rather dramatically one night in the library. “You can copy my Potions homework from now on, but  _ only _ if you take your own notes in History of Magic from now on.”

He considered it a fair exchange. She was currently helping him pull his life together anyway. “Deal.”

“Good. Now, if you have Quidditch practice on Thursdays, that means you can leave the easiest subject’s homework for that night…” Violet was helping him block out his evenings accordingly, so that he didn’t stay up until one o’clock in the morning most nights trudging through homework.

Harry shuffled closer to her so he could get a better look at the evening timetable she was drawing up for him.

“Potions isn’t the easiest subject,” he said with a frown, looking at Thursday. Violet rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. “Oi!”

“What did I just say?” She couldn’t sound anymore exasperated if she tried.

It dawned on him in his sometimes thick brain. “Oh. Right. You’re giving me an easy night because you’re letting me copy your Potions… right. Got it. Thanks.”

“Sometimes I worry about you, Potter,” Violet told him affectionately. “Please do me a favour and use your brain a little more this year? So you can pass your exams?”

He mock groaned and sank back in his chair. “ _ Fine, _ ” he sighed dramatically. “And since when are you calling me ‘Potter’ again?”

“Since you started calling me ‘Vi,’” she said simply. “It’s hard to drive a nickname from ‘Harry.’ Well - there’s ‘Har’ but that doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue nicely… I’m sure I’ll figure out something creative one day, but for now - you’re  _ Potter. _ ”

The way she was holding back a laugh while saying all this made Harry suspicious. “You’ve thought of something, haven’t you?”

Violet had a strained look on her face now. “Possibly…”

“What is it?”

“If I’m ever annoyed with you I could  _ easily _ call you your full name-”

“That won’t work on me-”

“Except using ‘Jimmy’ in place of ‘James.’”

“Oh god. That’s off the table,” Harry was furiously shaking his head. “Potter is fine, thank you very much.”

Violet giggled. “I thought you might agree to that.” She handed him the parchment she’d been working on, satisfied. “I’ve tried my best to at least give you Saturday and Sunday evenings free, as long as you get through everything else.”

He gave it the once over, impressed with what she’d come up with. “Wow. Thanks, Vi. That… actually looks doable.”

She sat up straight and proud. “You’re welcome. And you know who to come to if it’s not working out…”

A lot of their time ended up passing like that. Together, alone, in the library trying to get through whatever homework they could. They had a silent agreement about their room - they couldn’t start utilising it right away in fear of their friends being overly suspicious about their constant, obvious disappearances.

They took the small moments where they could in the library, all of which usually involved Harry sitting as close as he dared to Violet, his left hand resting gently on her lap so that she could covertly hold it with her left hand under the table. It made Violet wish she was left handed, and it made Harry realise that it was difficult to write when there wasn’t a spare hand to hold down the parchment.

Violet eventually got around it by placing books at the very top of their parchment sheets, so that they could carry on secretly holding hands under the table, occasionally brushing their thumbs over each other’s skin.

It was a small comfort they took in one another while they were unable to be so publicly affectionate - not that either of them liked that idea. It was more to do with they couldn’t act like a couple around their friends at the very least. No matter - it didn’t really bother them. There was something sweet about secrecy, because it meant nobody could comment on their relationship and they were left in a quiet, happy privacy.

Despite that, there was a low level of frustration from Harry and Violet, as the only alone time they could manage to muster up together was in the library doing homework - particularly on Violet’s part, considering she was the cleverer of the two and had a tendency to cave in to the urge to correct Harry’s work a lot of the time.

She was planning on bringing it up one morning when she had a brief moment alone with Harry in the Common Room, but he managed to beat her to it.

“Do you wanna go for a walk?” he asked her. “I… I was gonna go on my own, but… I realised I’d like your company.” Harry was rather sheepish about the whole thing, but Violet was beaming.

“Yes - of course. I’d love to go on a walk with you,” she replied.

“And - and we can get breakfast after?”

“Obviously,” she chuckled. “Let’s go.”

Harry had a denim jacket on rather than his robes, and Violet wondered if she should go put her cloak on over the top. It was getting nippy out for the most part as September started coming to a close. No matter, they were already out of the portrait hole, but she found some gloves in her pocket and slipped those on instead.

They headed out to the grounds via the Clocktower Courtyard, where they found themselves entirely alone.

“We don’t spend much time together outside of the library,” Harry said, casually taking hold of her hand as they started across the bridge. “And I can tell you’re getting annoyed with me.”

She started stammering out a failed response.

“It’s fine,” he reassured her. “Honestly I’m getting annoyed with your constant need to correct everything I do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“It’s hard not being ourselves around Hermione and Ron,” Violet mused. “I was going to bring it up this morning, actually, but you beat me to it.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh, and he ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. “Good to know we were on the same wavelength then. Do me a favour though - stop spying on my homework over my shoulder. I think we’re past the muttering answers to each other stage since we’re  _ actually _ friends now. And you know - the fact you’re my girlfriend.”

“ _ Secret _ girlfriend,” Violet corrected him with a smirk. His only response to that was giving her hand a squeeze. “But alright. I’ll stop it.”

“If I get stuck I’ll ask you for help,” he said. “Besides, the timetable you made has actually really helped.”

“Well that’s good. I thought it had - you’re actually getting good marks in Potions…”

“I was also going to ask if you could make my revision timetable for me?”

Violet faltered in her step at that and managed to trip on her own foot, with Harry catching her half a second later. “W-what?”

“I’d prefer it if you did it rather than Hermione this year, really.”

They came out to the Stone Circle and paused there, taking in the sight of the grounds. A soft mist covered the grass in a greyish white blanket that begged to be disturbed, as satisfying as it looked. Harry then spotted something over in the distance, and was momentarily excited.

“Vi - it’s - it’s what was pulling the carriages! Coming out of the forest! Did you ever find out what they were?”

“No, I didn’t, I’m sorry. I’ve not had much time…” she mumbled. “And I still can’t see them.”

“Can we-?”

“You don’t need to ask that question.”

So in a hurry, they descended down into the grounds and through the blanket of mist, leaving behind a wispy trail as Harry led Violet to the area where he knew the creatures to be coming from. What they found was a clearing among the trees that was empty to Violet, save for Luna Lovegood without shoes on.

The pair approached her as she was clearly petting something, and let go of each other’s hands when they were close enough.

“Hello Harry Potter. Violet Merryworth,” Luna said, turning her attention to them, rather than the fact she had been stroking something invisible. “You can carry on holding hands if you’d like, I won’t tell anyone.”

Violet was more taken aback than Harry. “How did you-”

“It was obvious,” Luna told her in that dreamy voice of hers.

“Right.”

“What are those things?” Harry swiftly changed the subject, taking a walk with Luna further across the clearing. Violet remained behind, deciding that this was a conversation better off between the two of them. She leaned against a nearby tree, subtly listening in on what they were talking about.

It didn’t matter what any of the other students thought, but Violet thought that Luna was quite sweet, if not a little odd in her own right - then again, wasn’t everyone? Luna merely had a different brand of peculiarity about her, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. The most important thing to Violet right now was that Harry finally had his answer about the creatures he’d been seeing, and that he was not alone in seeing them; she had Luna alone to thank for that.

A smile came to her face when she heard that Luna and her father firmly believed Harry in regards to Voldemort. Harry ended up coming back towards Violet looking a little lighter that he had done earlier that morning.

“So… Thestrals…” Violet mused as they walked back up to the castle. “I’m rather glad I can’t see them.”

“Yeah… let’s hope it stays that way,” Harry replied.

“Definitely. At least Luna’s on your side as well!”

“Hmm. Yeah, I guess…” Harry was dubious about that. “I mean - she’s a bit  _ odd.  _ You know people call her Loony Lovegood, right?”

“And? She’s sweet. Her heart is in the right place. I wouldn’t be so quick to judge - besides, she’s the only other person you know of that can see Thestrals, and I didn’t see you complaining about that.”

“Yeah… true… sorry, it’s just a bit…”

“Strange that someone would openly say they believe you about Voldemort?”

“Yeah. Definitely.” There was clearly something else on his mind as he slipped his hand into hers again, but Violet didn’t say anything. She merely waited until he had figured out what it was he wanted to say. “I know I’ve got you, and Hermione, and Ron, but - I’ve felt… lonely. Luna made a good point about the fact Voldemort would  _ want _ me to feel that way; cut off from everyone. I mean - the  _ Prophet _ doing a pretty good job of that anyway…”

“Hey,” Violet said softly, coming to a stop on the bridge. She tugged Harry closer to her, not entirely sure what she was planning on doing, but eventually wrapping him in a hug. Soon his arms found purchase around her. “I know I can’t ever understand what you were through in that graveyard, and I can’t understand that right now you feel lonely even when surrounded by friends, but I’m always here for you.” She pulled away from him so she could look at him. “If you don’t want to write a letter to Sirius because it’ll take too long to get an answer… and I know I’m not an adult who would admittedly give better advice, but I am your girlfriend. That comes with its merits.”

She finished off her train of thought with a tiny shrug, and it led to Harry pressing a deft kiss to her cheek. “Secret girlfriend,” he repeated her words from earlier, and it made her giggle. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “Come on. I’m starving.”

Violet took hold of his hand once more and practically dragged him to the Great Hall.

They barely even had a chance to join their friends - who gave them questioning looks about their lateness - when they could hear arguing outside in the Entrance Hall.

Along with a few other curious students, they investigated to find McGonagall and Umbridge arguing about teaching methods and loyalty. On seeing that they had an audience, Umbridge very dramatically announced how she was going to ensure the Ministry made vital changes to Hogwarts.

Changes that were made known in that very day’s issue of  _ The Evening Prophet, _ which had Violet seething over her dinner.

“High Inquisitor!” She was shrill as she slammed the paper down onto the table. “Under Educational Decree Number Twenty Three. If we’re not careful, she’ll be censoring the entire school in no time.”

“Brilliant,” Harry mumbled. “As if I haven’t had to deal with that already…”

“You can’t lose your temper with her ever again,” Violet warned him. He was about to protest, but she cut across him. “Harry - while I appreciate the fact you were angry with her about how she effectively threatened me after that first lesson, but I  _ am _ a big girl.” She paused for a second. “Providing she doesn’t drive me to tears again, that is.”

“So what do we do?” Ron asked through a mouthful of potatoes. Hermione looked at him in disdain.

“We can’t do anything,” Violet answered. “I mean… I suppose I could write to my mum and find out if she knows anything else… but also I don’t want to write to my mum…”

“What about Remus?” Hermione suggested.

“What if  _ someone _ tries to go through my mail?”

“Then write to your dad! Or him and Remus!”

“Well… yes, I could do that. Either way - mum’s not going to be happy I’m using them as middle men.”

“She can’t do anything about that!” Harry pointed out. “She messed up, not you. Just ask your dad and Remus to ask her if she can find out anything. She might… do it. In an effort to make it up to you…”

“ _ Fine, _ ” Violet said, getting out her wand and muttering  _ Incendio _ under her breath. The  _ Prophet _ caught fire. “I’ll send Remus a letter.”

When she was satisfied with how much the  _ Prophet _ had burned, Violet silently cast  _ Finite Incantatem _ so that the fire went out, leaving the newspaper blackened and crispy on the table before her.

“You good, Vi?” Ron was apparently a tiny bit afraid of her at that moment.

“I’m fine, Ronald,” she said curtly. “A little on edge, but otherwise okay.”

The four friends silently agreed that was the best way to describe their current feelings too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone for Harry/Violet attempting to navigate their relationship a bit? Violet has enough braincells to realise that dating the most famous boy at school in secret would require some form of communication at the very least...


	61. An Unexpected Detention

Umbridge’s changes were swift and constant. Not only was she constantly the most patronising teacher at the school and treating any and all classes as if they didn’t have their own brains to think with, but she was also reviewing the other teachers’ performances. And implementing ridiculous rules about boys and girls not being allowed within eight inches of each other.

Thankfully, Harry and Violet hadn’t really run into any issues with that, until one concerning morning during breakfast.

Astra came crashing down into the rack of toast, and feebly hopped over to Violet. The girl detached the letter from the small owl and disregarded it for a moment as she took in her pet’s appearance. Her feathers were ruffled and dishevelled, she was resting more weight on one foot than the other, and one of her wings was bent at an awkward angle.

“Oh my god…” Violet whispered, scooping up her sweet owl into her lap. Astra hooted affectionately at her, pleased to be handled and loved by her owner. Violet didn’t dare touch the out of shape wing, and merely stroked the owl’s head, trying to pour some kind of love back to her.

At this point, Harry had finally made his appearance for breakfast, sliding onto the bench next to Violet and sitting closely to her when he saw that she was cradling Astra in her lap.

“What happened?” he asked, offering out his hand to Astra, who gently nipped at it and then proceeded to bump his finger with her head until he stroked it. He snorted. Violet shot him a contemptuous look and he backtracked quickly. “Sorry - she just-”

“It’s fine…” she said, on realising he’d meant no harm. “Can you see who the letter’s from?”

He nodded and grabbed the envelope, only to find the seal had been broken already. Across the table, Hermione had a dark look on her face, while Ron - who was just joining them - was none the wiser to what was going on.

“Morning, what’s-”

“Shh!” Hermione said as Harry pulled the letter out.

“It’s from Lupin!” he exclaimed in a hushed voice. “ _ ‘Dear sweet girl, if I were you I’d keep your head down this year. I know you’re wonderful at plenty of your subjects, but do as you’re told. You normally do, but this is your O.W.Ls year, after all… I don’t want to see you getting into trouble. Work hard, practice your spell work as you see fit, and you’ll do just fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be passing on your love to your parents. Remus.’ _ Well, that was… vague…”

Asta chirped at Violet, wanting attention again. The girl had ceased in stroking her head when she was paying rapt attention to Harry reading out the letter. Distracted, she carried on running her finger over Astra’s feathers.

“Of course it was vague,” she said, matter of factly. “I said to Lupin in my outgoing letter that our mail was being watched. I just… I didn’t think Astra would be manhandled so badly…”

Surreptitiously, Harry looped an arm around Violet’s waist, thus squishing them quite close together. He played it off as trying to give Astra attention, staring down at the owl and offering her his finger yet again. The little bird was quite happy with the endless amounts of affection she was receiving that morning, appearing to have forgotten about her bent wing and dodgy foot in favour of lapping it all up.

Neither Harry or Violet were paying  _ that _ close attention to Astra, however, as they realise how close proximity their faces were. If Violet made any indication of turning to him at all, she was certain her lips would end up brushing his by accident, and the mere thought of it flushed her cheeks a delicate shade of pink.

Thankfully, Harry glanced up and then jumped off the bench.

“Professor Grubbly-Plank!” he called out, approaching the teacher as she was making her way down from the staff table. “My friend - Violet - her owl-”

Violet, too, jumped up from the bench, gingerly cradling Astra and going over to her Care of Magical Creatures teacher.

“Someone’s manhandled her,” she scowled. “Do you - do you think you’ll be able to help?”

“Of course I can, my dear!” Grubbly-Plank offered out her hands. “Hand her over, she’ll be better in no time at all.”

Violet cautiously handed her owl over to her teacher, who then carried on her journey out of the Great Hall. She stared after the woman, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Astra’s in good hands,” Harry said, grabbing her robes by the cuff and leading her back to the table. “Eat. You have a bad habit of not doing that when you’re worried.”

She shrugged out of his grip once they were back with Ron and Hermione, and then promptly listened to Harry, helping herself to one of the slices of toast that hadn’t been knocked over by Astra. They were not left in peace for long, as an irritating  _ ahem _ soon jolted both Harry and Violet from their breakfast. They turned to see Umbridge smiling down at them.

“Boys and girls are not permitted to be within eight inches of each other,” she told them in that awfully sweet voice of hers. “And I do believe I saw you two sitting closer than that a few minutes ago.”

“It was my owl, Professor Umbridge,” Violet said quickly. “She was hurt, and Harry was seeing if she was alright. He’s quite fond of her as well, you see. We just gave her to Professor Grubbly-Plank.”

“And Violet’s one of my best friends,” Harry added. “I didn’t want her to be upset, Professor.”

“Hmm. Very well,” was all she said before tottering off to go prep for whatever class she had to teach first thing that morning.

“God…” Violet sighed as soon as Umbridge was out of earshot. “Now I’m  _ really _ dreading Defence Against the Dark Arts later.”

Violet was right to dread that now god forsaken lesson.

As if it wasn’t so painfully dull while they sat in silence and copied out specific areas in the textbook three times, she was called back at the end by Umbridge.

“Miss Merryworth,” she began, “I’d like for you to join me this evening in my office at five o’clock sharp.”

“Um… of course, Professor,” Violet replied uneasily. “Have - have I done something wrong?”

“No, not at all, dearie!” Umbridge waved her off. “I’d just like to have a private chat with you. Girl to girl.”

Violet nodded in a feigned understanding. “I’ll see you at five o’clock, Professor.”

More confused than anything, Violet hurried out of the classroom to find only Harry and Ron had lingered back; Hermione had had to dash off to Ancient Runes.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked.

“I have to go speak to her at five o’clock. She wouldn’t say why,” Violet replied as the three of them headed off to Ancient Runes.

“It’s not a detention, is it?”

“No, I think she would have made that known to the class…”

As the rest of the day wore on, Violet found herself becoming more curious about what was to entail at five o’clock rather than nervous. That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous - because she was - it was just this was more of a “curiosity killed the cat” type of situation. It left her only partially distracted for the rest of the day.

Violet had a quick dinner before going to Umbridge’s office, where she rapped on the door three times.

“Come in,” the woman said, and in Violet went. She had to hide her horror at the sheer amount of pink that covered every surface in the room, and the amount of moving cat pictures up on the walls. While Umbridge sat at her main desk, there was a smaller one just off to the side with a chair behind it too.

“Good evening, Professor Umbridge,” Violet said, a little too chirpy for her liking.

“Good evening to you too, Miss Merryworth,” everything about the woman was enough to make anyone queasy. “Take a seat over there, please.”

“I - I thought we were going to have a chat?” Violet squeaked out as she went over to the smaller desk, already dreading what was to come. “I didn’t think I was in detention…”

“Oh no, this isn’t a detention,” Umbridge told her, walking over to place a few pieces of parchment and a quill in front of the girl. “I just think some extra reinforcement is required with you, which shouldn’t be too hard. I’ve heard all about what happened when Professor Moody put the Imperius Curse on you.”

Violet’s stomach dropped, and she shakily picked up the quill. She knew exactly what Umbridge was getting at, and knew for a fact that she most definitely wouldn’t be subject to as many sessions of it as Harry was.

“What - what am I writing?”

Somehow, she knew deep down what Umbridge was going to say. She knew what this was about.

“Hmm… perhaps… ‘I should not associate with half breeds.’”

There it was.

All Violet did was nod and get to work. Satisfied that the girl wasn’t going to argue, Umbridge happily went to settle back down at her own desk once more.

The pain was searing and itchy, and Violet wished she had seen through Umbridge’s plan from the start. Of course she couldn’t have given Violet a detention for no reason in front of the class. Of course she did it all under a ploy to spread her prejudiced views. Violet kept writing those awful words over and over again until they remained permanently etched onto the back of her hand, bleeding out.

Even then, Umbridge made her keep going for another hour until she was finally allowed to leave. It was about eleven o’clock at night.

“If I catch you writing to that filthy man again, Miss Merryworth, you’ll be back in here. Do you understand me?”

Violet slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way over to the door, all colour draining from her face. “Yes, Professor Umbridge. Good night.”

“Good night.”

As Violet left the office cradling her hand, she felt dizzy and as if she were in a bad dream and not quite connected to reality. Did that really just happen? Did Umbridge really just punish her for writing to Lupin? Shock. She was in shock over it all.

By the time she got back to Gryffindor Tower, the Common Room was almost empty save for a couple of friendly faces: Harry and Hermione, both up late.

“There you are! Harry said you were- Violet?” Hermione had taken one look at Violet and immediately came running over to her. “Are you - are you alright?”

Violet dumbly shook her head, allowing Hermione to lead her over to the sofa where she and Harry were based, sitting the girl down between them.

“It wasn’t a chat,” Violet said through clenched teeth, thinking that if she opened her mouth too much she might actually vomit. She revealed her bloody hand to Harry and Hermione, both of them appalled. She giggled mirthlessly as she looked between her hand and Harry’s. “We’ve got near enough matching couple’s tattoos…”

Not even a bit of morbid humour could distract from the fact Violet needed to clean up her hand, nor could it distract Hermione from the fact Harry was now firmly keeping his mouth shut. Instead, he made a point of going through Violet’s bag to pull out a packet of tissues to start wiping the blood off of her. They still hadn’t seen the writing, and she currently wasn’t up for explaining it either.

“Care to explain that one, Harry?” Hermione asked, still worried, but now highly amused by the comment.

“Um, yeah, I’d - I’d be  _ more _ than happy to, in fact-” he stopped short, as he now saw what was etched into the back of Violet’s hand.

_ I should not associate with half breeds. _

That grounded her for sure. Whatever amusement she found within her own words was gone; instead it looked like she might cry - but she didn’t. She stared sadly at her own hand.

“I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t have written to him…” she whispered. “I think I got lucky that his letter back was as vague as it was…”

“It’s not your fault,” Hermione told her. “Umbridge is - she’s  _ foul. _ The fact she hates people with lycanthropy enough to do  _ this _ to you under a pretence.” She was horrified. “It’s despicable!”

She got up and started pacing in front of Harry and Violet.

“What are we going to do about you two?” she threw the question at them.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked with a frown, but putting an arm around Violet. It was just the three of them in the Common Room anyway.

“The fact that you two are secretly dating - which, I might add, explains the ordeal with Astra this morning. The pair of you looking at her like she was your child!” Hermione sighed, coming to a stop so she could survey the two of them properly. “Why didn’t you say anything? More to the point - why keep lying about it?”

“I’ve had enough people gawking at me for a lifetime, thanks very much.”

“And I don’t  _ need _ people gawking at me,” Violet said.

“You know me and Ron wouldn’t have said anything…” Hermione said, a little sadly. “But Umbridge is clearly onto the both of you after breakfast today. And Harry, you absolutely cannot get into trouble with her in lessons again!  _ Especially _ now that this has happened!” She gestured at Violet, who was now regaining her usual light olive skin tone.

“Then me and Ron can swap seats in Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Violet suggested quietly. “It’s not like me and Harry are putting in the extra effort anymore, is it? She’d hate that.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Harry agreed.

“Although…” Violet was now uncertain of it. “Am I not your impulse control in that subject at the moment?”

Harry winced. “Yeah, I guess… the amount of times you’ve stepped on my foot so I don’t talk has been alarming…”

Hermione couldn’t help herself - she laughed, and it snapped her friends’ attention back to her.

“I really can’t believe how blind I’ve been the past month and a half…” she said with a smile. “I’m seeing it now. You two  _ have _ been acting differently.”

“Not  _ that _ differently,” Harry said.

“Unless you’re looking for it… I won’t tell anyone. However, Harry, I’d recommend you tell Ron at the very least. It’ll be easier for the four of us to work together to make sure this is kept secret.” She tilted her head to the side. “I’m assuming there’s more to you two keeping quiet about it then just… wanting privacy from the rest of the school?”

“There is,” Violet said, taking her hand out of Harry’s and finishing off cleaning it herself. “That’s a story for another day - for when Ron knows.”

“Of course. In your own time,” Hermione said softly, before gathering up her things. “I’ll sort out some Murtlap Essence for you so you don’t have to do it when you come up. Good night Violet, Harry.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” she said, watching the other girl take her leave from the Common Room up to the girls’ dormitory.

After a few moments of silence, Violet turned to Harry. “I’m sorry… I don’t - I don’t know why I said that…” She glanced down her hand.

Harry waved it off. “It was a good joke. Sort of. Maybe slightly in bad taste.”

Violet cringed, and Harry gingerly took her hand again in his own scarred one.

“But… you are right. Near enough matching. Let’s just hope neither of us get thrown into detention again.”

“Agreed.”

“Are you feeling any better?” he then asked her. “I thought you were gonna faint when you walked in…”

“I’m steady enough. How’s my face looking? Do I look like I’m quarter-Indian again?”

“Yes,” he laughed. “You look like you’re quarter-Indian again. You… you have nice skin, you know that right?”

“That - that’s not a compliment I thought I’d ever hear…” Violet pursed her lips together in an effort not to laugh.

“I thought you liked my awkward flirting.” Harri raised his eyebrows at her, a cocky sort of smile coming to his face.

Beginning to get flustered - and feeling much better than she had done ten minutes previously - Violet lightly batted him on the arm. “Stop that.” She managed to regain her composure, and tried not to let the horrible events of the evening sink in too much. “I still need to do homework,” she murmured.

“Want me to keep you company? Actually, I finished Herbology just before you walked in… just copy it. I know you care about that kind of thing, but I don’t.  _ You _ need an easy night,” he insisted, handing over the homework in question. Conflicted, Violet was hesitant in taking it, but did so all the same.

All the while Violet was catching up on homework, Harry started to play with her hair. It was a little distracting at first, but the moment he took it out of the bun and combed his fingers through it to help neaten it out - she was soothed. She began to enjoy the casual way he merely twirled it about his fingers, a tingling sensation spreading across the top of her scalp that made her feel almost sleepy after enough time had passed.

Not to mention, it completely cleared any thoughts of Umbridge from her mind. Even though her hand ached while she wrote and the words etched onto the back of it became itchy as they finally dried into a scab, she paid it no attention. Violet had no need to. Not right now, when Harry was doing his best to make her feel better.

Except before they parted ways before bed, Harry held her in arms long enough that she felt her resolve about to break because of everything all over again. She was tense when she kissed him good night, running up to her dormitory to promptly soak her hand in Murtlap Essence and then eventually cry herself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I swear I'll make things happy again. I'd already peppered in Umbridge's disdain towards Lupin during Violet's trial so... I needed to follow through on that. And now Hermione knows about Harry/Violet! Yay! I initially wasn't going to have that happen so soon (in fact, I was going to keep it up till the summer before 6th year), HOWEVER: during my planning, I realised there were a couple of points where it would be hard for the pair of them to keep things a secret from Ron and Hermione, so decided to slowly work in the fact they would find out sooner rather than later. Hope you all enjoyed!


	62. Back to the Room

“Have you told Ron yet?” Violet hissed to Harry one morning on the way down to breakfast. 

“Not yet, no,” Harry replied just as quietly. “It’s been hard to grab him alone - or even at all… he’s been out on his broom a lot…”

“Fair enough.”

“How about we try and grab him after Quidditch this evening?”

“Um… sure…” Violet was uncertain about that. “I was thinking of going back to the room… I don’t know, I just - I need breathing space somewhere.”

“I think I get what you mean,” Harry said. “Mind if I join after Quidditch?”

“Be my guest.”

Truthfully, while it was great that Hermione now knew they were attempting to navigate a relationship, she’d become a little too over the top about making sure they weren’t so obvious in lessons. Simple things such as sitting between the pair of them in Potions, or trying to stop them from passing notes to each other - it wasn’t a bad thing, per say, only mildly frustrating.

It meant they hadn’t managed to catch some time alone in the library which was fair game: the library was practically Hermione’s home.

“Are you alright?” Harry then asked Violet, noticing that she was more quiet than normal.

She nodded, but her thoughts drifted down to her hand as they had a tendency to do so since the detention. She had no way of telling her parents or Lupin what had happened - not without the fear of Astra being intercepted on her way in or out of Hogwarts again. Professor Grubbly-Plank had healed the little owl, and Violet had no desire to put her in harm’s way again.

Harry obviously didn’t believe her, but dropped the subject entirely.

During lessons throughout the day, even Hermione noticed that Violet was a little more subdued than normal. Instead of being a wedge between her and Harry in Potions, she made sure the two of them sat next to each other. It didn’t go amiss to her that Violet would occasionally hold Harry’s hand under the table, and she said nothing - she let them get on with it for once that week.

By the time that Harry and Ron went for Quidditch practice, Violet murmured some excuse to Hermione that she needed to go for a walk and that she might join her in the library afterwards; naturally, she headed straight for the room to do her homework.

That was a good enough distraction for some time, and she managed to blast through Herbology and Astronomy before deciding to have a little break. She ended up lying back on the floor gazing up at the celestial ceiling in the room, able to enjoy the peace it gave her for a little while.

As she went to rest her hands behind her head, Violet caught sight of writing on her right hand, and she held it out in front of her. The bleeding shouldn’t have been fresh, but she’d found herself compulsive picking away at the scabs doing her homework because it had been far too itchy. She’d forgotten to grab the Murtlap Essence that evening, and she didn’t want to be going back and forth to the Common Room too much.

_ I should not associate with half-breeds. _

Every time she was alone, the words brought tears to her eyes.

When Violet heard the door open, she sat up, and looked round to see that Harry was sopping wet from practice. She jumped to her feet and headed over to him.

“Wait,” she said, pulling her wand out of her sleeve and pointing it at him. A few moments later, a rush of warm air drifted over the boy and dried him off.

He smiled at her. “Thanks,” he said, going over to where she’d been sitting and collapsing to the floor himself.

“How was it this evening?” she asked tentatively, joining him. On her way over, she pulled down her jumper sleeve as far as it would go over her right hand.

“Ron is… he’s doing his best. He just needs more confidence…”

“It’s not enough right now, is it?” Violet cut straight to the point there, which caught Harry off guard as he pulled out his own books and parchment.

“I - well - I - I guess not… I’m starting to wonder if you should have tried out in the end...”

Violet laughed. “I kept dropping the Quaffle and I missed a good few shots. Definitely not cut out for being Keeper. Anyway… homework. Considering we sorted out Potions last night, I finished off Astronomy and Herbology if you need some pointers…” she flicked through her parchment sheets until she found what she was looking for, handing them over to Harry. “Check what you’ve got against mine and add in anything you might be missing...”

“Will do…” Harry replied. “And… Defence Against the Dark Arts? Have you started on that at all?”

Violet shook her head. “It’s not due until next week… I’ll start on it at the weekend…”

A subject that used to be their favourite, their time to shine together, had become nothing more than an awkward topic of conversation. There was no point in them even trying to do the extra work. Umbridge wouldn’t care because it wouldn’t have been “Ministry approved.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed when Violet handed him yet another sheet to do with Herbology, as he caught sight of blood under her thumb nail. “Vi?”

“Yes?”

“How’s your hand doing?”

“It’s fine,” she said stiffly, setting back on her knees and placing her hands in her lap. She stared down at them. “It’s fine…” there was more of a wobble to her voice.

He slowly reached out for her right hand and took it in his own, moving her jumper sleeve aside to find the words etched into it were tacky. “Violet…”

“It was itchy and I forgot the Murtlap Essence and I didn’t want to go back to the Common Room, okay?” she said quickly.

“Don’t pick at it,” he said softly.

She slipped her hand out of his. “I know. Come on… you’ve got work to do…”

Clearly there was more he wanted to say, despite the fact that Violet was now very obviously not paying him any attention at all, opting to furiously focus on scribbling down Transfiguration notes on a fresh piece of parchment while she flipped through a textbook. Harry sighed, but started using her essays for assistance regardless, all the while unable to concentrate properly.

It wasn’t until about ten minutes later that he could hear sniffing: Violet was quietly crying onto her Transfiguration notes. She’d let her hair down so it covered her face for the most part, but the blotchy stains on her parchment were a dead giveaway.

Harry put his own quill down and scooted over to sit next to Violet, electing to wrap his arms around her. She stiffened up at first, but then leaned into it, dropping her quill with a light clatter and crying into his shoulder.

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” he murmured into the top of her head as he stroked her hair. He frowned as his fingers got caught in the tangles about halfway down, but then he smiled. Harry had never ran his fingers through her hair before, and it amused him to no end that it was as messy as he thought it would be. “You didn’t let me deal with it alone. Stop being so stubborn!”

“You’ve got enough on your plate,” Violet murmured into his shoulder. He rolled his eyes, but held her tighter.

“I’m your best friend and your  _ boyfriend _ , Vi. So that means - it doesn’t matter what’s on my plate, I’m here for you when you’re upset. Always.”

Violet glanced up at him, her hazel eyes swollen and red and watery, big and round and pleading. “Always?”

“Yes,” Harry tried not to sound so exasperated, instead shooting her a weary smile. “I’ve never seen you this upset before and I hate it.”

“How do you think  _ I _ feel?” she retorted, hastily wiping her eyes. He didn’t know why, but Harry chuckled. “What?” Violet’s brow was furrowed, and it just made Harry laugh even more.

“I don’t know. I think it’s something about you being too stubborn for your own good,” he eventually said. 

“I’m not  _ that _ stubborn.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Think that just proved my point.”

Violet couldn’t help herself - she smiled at him as she sat up straight again, feeling a lot lighter than she had done previously. Sometimes a good cry was all that was needed, by the looks of things. Not that it was something she wanted to do often at all, but even she couldn’t deny she felt much better. Perhaps that was also down to Harry being there too.

Surveying him for a few moments with her head tilted to the side, Violet then cupped the nape of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, practically melting against him. Moments like that were a rarity, so she was going to savour the fact he still tasted of rain and smelt of petrichor, regardless of the fact she’d already dried him off.

She pulled back from him briefly so that their noses still bumped together. He was blinking at her in surprise, and became further taken aback when she reached up with her free hand to remove his glasses.

“What?” she whispered with a little shrug, carefully placing them on the pile of forgotten homework. “It’ll be easier to kiss you without  _ those _ on.”

He barely had a moment to respond when her lips captured his again, this time with more heat behind it, more of a frenzy - like if she didn’t kiss him  _ right now _ she wasn’t going to be able to do it ever again. Harry’s hands dropped to her waist in a flailing mess before he got comfy again.

They hadn’t kissed properly like that since the summer, and Harry knew that to be why Violet was so frantic at that present time. He didn’t mind it though - in fact, he enjoyed it. He felt the same. Not to mention, he liked it when she showed her more bold side, as if it had been hiding, waiting for the right moment to present itself.

Soon enough his fingers were caught up in her wildly long hair again, and the homework lay forgotten for the next twenty minutes, which was when they eventually called it a night in the room and decided that actually, they were going to be far more productive if they returned to the Common Room and did their work. They couldn’t exactly have a prolonged snogging session under the watchful eyes of their house mates.

Hastily they straightened out their school uniforms, Violet tied her hair back up in a bun, and they gathered up their books, parchment, and bags and started down the seventh floor corridor back to Gryffindor Tower. They were both absolutely on cloud nine, and it was difficult to hide.

Ron appeared to be most pleased on seeing his friends return.

“There you are! What took you two so long?” he asked, making space for them at the table in the corner. Ginny had been keeping him company it seemed, and now seemed eager for Violet and Harry to be joining them.

“Violet was in the middle of looking for some more books when I met her in the library,” Harry lied quickly. “For Transfiguration. That was… that was what we were going to start on, wasn’t it?”

“Hmm? Oh yes,” she said in a faraway voice, hardly paying attention as she got her homework out once more. Violet then sagged in her chair, making no effort to actually carry on with it, but rather twirl a loose piece of hair around her finger. “Terrible distraction, I  _ do _ apologise for keeping Harry…”

Harry stepped on her foot under the table, and that seemed to break her out of whatever daydream she was in.

“Are you alright, Vi?” Ginny asked, concerned. “You’re a bit out of it.”

Violet desperately tried not to make eye contact with anybody, although her cheeks were flushed - and had been since they left the room. “I’m fine. It’s been a long week, hasn’t it?”

“Too bloody right…” Ron murmured. “So - Transfiguration?”

“Right,” Violet said, more brightly. As the three fifth years got down to work, Ginny decided it was best to leave them be and go find her other friends. That was a welcome relief to Harry and Violet, considering they needed to talk to Ron anyway. “Well…”

“Well what?”

“Perhaps Harry and I weren’t working in the library…” Violet murmured.

“Then what were you- oh.  _ What?” _

“We were working - for a bit,” Harry emphasised. “It was just… better to work here so we didn’t get distracted…”

“Yeah, no, I got that much, Harry…” Ron then lowered his voice. “Go on. Which tapestry were you snogging behind? So I know not to walk there again after Quidditch practice.”

Trying not to laugh at the question, Violet blurted out: “the one on the fourth floor.” Her voice was very strained, but Ron didn’t notice. She cleared her throat after a moment. “Just so you’re aware-”

“We’ve sort of been going out since the summer,” Harry said.

“Bloody hell, course you have,” Ron was a mix of being surprised and also not surprised at all. “Why keep it quiet though? Actually - wait - same answer as why you kept the Yule Ball thing quiet, isn’t it?”

“Well done, Ronald,” Violet remarked dryly. “And you’re not annoyed?”

“Nah. I mean - it’s you two. Feel like at this point it’s a given, right? Keep it quiet until it’s actually going well.” He shrugged it off, and got back to stressing out over Transfiguration. Confused but pleased their best friends knew about them now, Harry and Violet also got back to work.

Admittedly the three of them gave up by the time Hermione rolled back into the Common Room at eleven o’clock, where she joined them with a deep sigh.

“You alright, Hermione?” Violet asked.

“I’m fine! Surprised you didn’t join, is all.”

“Harry and Vi were snogging behind the tapestry on fourth-”

Harry promptly walloped Ron upside the head in an effort to get him to stop talking, which only led to the redhead laughing.

“Oh good. We all know now,” Hermione smiled at them all. “The only good thing to happen recently, let’s be honest… what are we going to do about Umbridge?”

“We can’t do anything,” Violet grumbled, pulling her hair out of the bun once more that day and allowing her hair to tumble down. Harry flinched for a moment as if he were about to go play with it; until he remembered that there were still a couple of other students in the Common Room besides their small group.

“At the very least we need to learn how to defend ourselves.”

“Now that we  _ can _ do,” Violet agreed. “Currently there’s no Educational Decree saying we  _ can’t- _ ”

She cut herself short, frowning as she caught something out of the corner of her eye over by the fireplace. Whatever it was she saw - it disappeared promptly. Harry had also followed where she was looking.

“Did you see that too?” he asked her.

“Yes - something in the fire?”

Curious as ever, Violet got up and went over to the fireplace trying to play it off as casually as possible while the last couple of stragglers finally wandered off up to bed. She squatted down in front of the fire.

“If you are who I think you are - you can come out now,” she said calmly, and Sirius’ face popped up in front of her.

That drew over Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“What are you doing?!” Harry hissed at him.

“Answering your letter,” Sirius said coolly. “If Violet’s owl was accosted like you said, I’m not going to be risking Hedwig or any other owl. But be quick though. I think she’s watching the Floo Network… So what’s Umbridge got you doing? Training you to kill half breeds?”

“She’s not training us at all!”

“Funny you should use the term half breed,” Violet remarked. “I had a run in with Umbridge because of the fact I wrote to Remus. I can’t write to him again. Not even to my parents - she’ll be checking all my incoming mail.”

“What did she do?” Sirius enquired, his brow furrowed.

“She’s got a lovely little Blood Quill and made me write out that I shouldn’t associate with half breeds.” A wry smile had come to settle onto Violet’s face, and the fact she didn’t even have a single tear in her eye over in this was a pleasant shock. Perhaps it was because she was in the position of telling a fairly responsible adult.

“Awful woman. Anyway - you do realise the Ministry doesn’t want you trained in combat? Fudge thinks Dumbledore is trying to make some kind of army against it.”

“Of course he does,” Hermione said. “That would be his worst fear.”

“He’s paranoid,” Sirius said. “Blocking the truth at every turn… it’s causing a bit of trouble for the Order. Not to mention the disappearances - which is how it started before…” He deliberated over what he was next going to say, as if maybe there was a good chance it would be the wrong thing to say. “Gen caught a lead on Fletcher. Had a run in with him the other day.”

Violet sank back onto her knees, her heart jumping into her throat. As much as she still despised her mother, she still wouldn’t have wished her to be hurt by her own Death Eater brother. She clenched her jaw and tried not to let her upset show.

“Is she alright?” the voice that came out of Violet’s mouth wasn’t her own.

“Nothing that Thomas couldn’t fix. However it has set the rest of the Order on edge - we came close to a shred of evidence that Voldemort’s followers are active and instead Gen lost her cool and was nearly hexed to oblivion!” He was exasperated. Anyone sane would have been in that scenario.

“Is there anything we can do? From here?” Harry asked desperately.

Sirius shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Keep yourselves safe - worry more about Umbridge and-”

He stopped short.

“Someone’s coming. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

With those final words, Sirius was gone.

“This is getting too real for my liking,” Violet said darkly, her expression unreadable.

“He really is out there, isn’t he?” Hermione said quietly, wandering over to the window, sitting on the ledge and peering out into the inky black sky. “And if Umbridge won’t teach us to defend ourselves - we need someone who will.” She bit her lip and then looked over at Harry. “It should be you.”

“What?” Harry jumped up off the floor. “Why me? It should be you - or Vi! You’re both  _ way _ better than me at this stuff…”

“In a classroom sense, yes…” Violet also rose from the floor. “But not in the real world sense.”

“We’re not the ones who faced off You-Know-Who to save the Philosopher's Stone, mate,” Ron pointed out. “Or killed a Basilisk with a sword!”

“I believe it was you who cast a Patronus charm at age thirteen to ward off about a hundred Dementors to save your past self and Sirius.”

“But that was-” Harry groaned and started pacing up and down in front of the fire. Violet jumped out of his pathway, and ended up perching herself on the edge of the sofa arm. “Some of that was down to luck! How am I meant to teach you lot how to get out of situations like that?!”

“Not just us,” Hermione said. “But other students as well - students who aren’t satisfied with Umbridge as a teacher in the slightest. Students who  _ want _ to learn  _ real _ Defence Against the Dark Arts. To practice their spellwork! Stop being so modest!”

“I’m  _ not _ being modest!” Harry’s voice had risen to the point he was borderline shouting. “I’m being  _ honest!” _

Sensing that there was a chance for his frustration to escalate to anger, Violet reached out as he was about to pass her in his pacing and took hold of his arm. He came to a halt and stared down at her.

“What?” he snapped at her.

A raised eyebrow from her certainly helped him simmer down, and he guiltily shifted from foot to foot while Violet spoke.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re being modest or honest,” she said calmly, letting go of him. “The point here is that out of everyone in our year, you’re the only one who has experienced what it’s like to face the Dark Arts for real with no second chances. It doesn’t matter if you’re not the best in the class, but what was all that training we did with you for the Triwizard Tournament, hmm? You know some nifty spells, and you could teach us - and a few others.”

“Oh yeah, because I’m sure everyone wants to be taught by the boy who lied,” Harry said with an eye roll, sinking down into the nearby armchair. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose before rubbing his eyes.

“You’d be surprised,” Hermione hopped off the windowsill. “Violet and I can do the rounds. We’ll see who’s interested. The first Hogsmeade trip of the year is next weekend: it’ll be the perfect time to see who might be up for it  _ and _ Umbridge can’t do anything about that.”

“And you have three people right here who would very much like to be taught by the boy who lied,” Violet added. Harry placed his glasses back on and eyed her furtively for a few moments, before a reluctant half smile came to his face.

“Fine,” he conceded.

“Don’t forget - you’re the one who’s considering Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher as a career too,” Ron got up and went to clap Harry on the shoulder. “It’ll be good practice.”

Harry hummed in agreement, watching as Ron and Hermione both headed up to bed after that. Only he and Violet remained in the Common Room, an occurrence that was becoming more regular but very welcome.

“Think you’re up for helping me with some lesson plans? If we definitely do this?” he asked her rather casually, going to pick at a loose thread he’d spotted on the chair arm. Violet let out a light laugh - perhaps the least tense she’d sounded since Sirius mentioned her mother - and nodded in agreement.

“If I must,” she replied rather dramatically.

Violet started chewing on the inside of her cheek after that. As much as she was delighted that  _ finally _ they were going to do something about the lack of education they were receiving from Umbridge, her stomach was in knots from their conversation with Sirius. Agitated, she started playing with the hem of her skirt.

“I’m sure your mum’s okay,” Harry then said, realising what her current quiet state was going into turmoil over. “She’s a really good Auror.”

She hummed, acknowledging his statement. He was right - Genevive Stella Merryworth was an  _ excellent _ Auror, considering she’d been trained by Alastor Moody himself. She was also good because Violet knew her mother’s time at Hogwarts had been spent mostly buried in books and keeping out of trouble, unless her family brought it to her.

Which was exactly the case with Fletcher, to a degree. The Aurors office at the Ministry had been on the Oaks’ case for over a year now, since the Quidditch World Cup, so for once the tables had turned and Genevive was giving her older brother trouble - only he’d kept evading her and the Ministry. Violet could only assume, but if he’d been caught she would most definitely have been told.

Voldemort being back meant that the game of cat and mouse Genevive and Fletcher played was back the way it should be. Fletcher being an absolute pain to her, as always.

“Fletcher was better than her during school. He had more ambition than her,” Violet said to Harry. “It makes sense she was the one that suffered for it this time around.”

“I’ve never really thought to ask because I know you don’t like to talk about it… but how much do you know about that side of your family? Like what happened with them at school?”

“I don’t know all the details. With mum - I just know she was good friends with Remus and Sirius at school… and your mum, like Sirius told us in the summer. Anyway, in regards to the aunts and uncles who’ve never spoken to me? I know enough to know that I’m more like that side of the family than I initially thought.”

Harry wasn’t sure how to digest that.

“Not necessarily anything dark,” Violet clarified, “but logic leaps. Why else do you think my mum is an Auror? And… well, you’ve seen me do non verbal spells. Imagine what other theory I could put into practice with all the reading I do?”

Something clicked in Harry’s mind. “That’s why Hermione’s better than you in class. She’s good at  _ retaining _ information, but you’re better at  _ using _ it.”

“Yes - subject dependent, of course. There’s one specific thing I do know about Lamia Oaks - in terms of using information you read or hear.”

“Which is what?” Harry was just as unsettled at hearing all this as Violet was telling him about it.

“Apparently she’s awfully good at creating spells.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honest to god love going into Violet's family's backstory. I ended up having to draw a family tree the other day and writing a couple of small details out because I'm starting to plan the prequel story involving the Marauders and Genevive. Particularly focusing on how she really broke away from her pureblood idealist family. That's also gonna be a long one, and will end up on this site once I have finished Quietly Observant! Which is uhhh gonna be a long way off yet. Although I seem to be turning chapters around fairly quickly. So who knows, really.


	63. Dumbledore's Army

The week in the lead up to the first Hogsmeade trip dragged, as it always did.

Safe in the knowledge that Ron and Hermione would cover for them now, Violet and Harry slipped off to their room most evenings in the week to work and spend time together in general. The weight of secrecy from their two best friends had been lifted from their shoulders, and the pair of them were much happier for it. They hadn’t realised it was even a problem until it suddenly wasn’t.

Harry had taken to bringing his Invisibility Cloak along too. They almost had a run in with Filch one night on their way back to the Common Room after realising that it was nearly midnight and they had to sprint back before they were caught - or lest, they spend a night in the room and have Ron and Hermione tease them about a night long disappearance.

There was a rare evening where they didn’t have any work to do, as they had managed to finish all that day during lunch. So when Harry came in from Quidditch practice, he found Violet curled up on one of the beanbags reading. Instead of occupying the one next to her, he squished onto the same one.

“You smell of broomsticks and sweat,” Violet muttered, demurely turning a page. “I prefer you post-Quidditch practice smelling like petrichor.”

“Petrichor?”

“Dust after rain. That’s what you smelt and tasted like last week.”

“ _ Tasted? _ ” It took Harry a moment before he actually remembered what Violet was referring to. “Oh. Right, yeah - when we were…  _ snogging. _ ”

“Eloquent,” Violet quipped, and Harry put an arm around her. She shifted so that she could lean into him and rest her head against his chest; something of which she’d never done before. Either way, it felt nice. Calming. Until she realised she had to take her down out of that stupid bun otherwise she wouldn’t be comfortable at all.

Violet pulled her hair down, the long black tresses coming to rest over her left shoulder in a thick mass that Harry immediately started to play with with his free hand.

“I’ve said before your hair’s nice when it’s down,” he murmured, twirling a lock of it around his fingers repeatedly in an attempt to turn the messy waves into a nice, loose curl.

“You have,” Violet replied. “Thank you.”

“‘S’alright. I miss it being in the plait as well.”

Violet tensed for a second, then merely shrugged off Harry’s comment. “Well, I don’t really fancy Malfoy or anyone grabbing at it again. Same reason why I won’t keep it down. Besides - it’s just easier to keep out of my face if I have it up.”

Harry felt a pang go through his heart. Why was it that every time Violet grew confident in one regard, something else had to knock it back? Malfoy was lucky that Harry was keeping his temper in check, as well as the fact their group often avoided him, otherwise he was fair game for practicing a hex or two on.

“Hmm _ , ow _ ,” Violet protested. Pulled from his thoughts, Harry realised he’d tugged on her hair a bit too hard. She didn’t seem to mind too much - in fact she was distracted from her book and ended up setting it down.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

She’d already captured his lips with hers, blushing more madly than she had ever done before.

“Could you - could you do that again? While you kiss me?” Violet whispered, breaking away from him for just a second.

Harry didn’t even have time to respond because she was kissing him again. A strange sensation overtook him as he processed her question, as if he had blacked out and all he could register was the feeling of Violet’s hair entrapping his fingers, her lips on his - always so hungry…

He tugged on her hair again, gently, coming back to reality. She smiled against his mouth, and a deep satisfaction coursed through Harry when he realised that okay, as awkward as the pair of them could be, he was doing  _ something _ right. He could never be sure in cases like this, and he knew Violet felt the same.

She pulled away from him, her hazel eyes big, round, and somewhat shy. She picked up her book again and settled back down to resting against him as if the past few minutes hadn’t happened at all. Not in a bad way, in fact Harry found it amusing she was just going to brush that new nugget of knowledge he had about her under the rug.

“That was nice,” she said quietly.

“It was,” he agreed, resting his chin atop her head. He liked the quiet moments like this, where they didn’t have to worry about anything else and just be, wishing that he could freeze their moment forever. Not in a photograph - photographs were prone to fading over time - but in a more organic way. Harry wondered if one day when he was older he should get a Pensive like the one in Dumbledore’s office.

For now, he settled for watching Violet handle her book delicately as she turned the pages. She had a habit of chewing on her bottom lip when really thinking about what she was reading, no matter if it was fact or fiction. It was like he was watching the cogs in her brain turn, and she’d only release her bottom lip once she was clear on what she had just read. A few fluttery blinks would also tell Harry she was done with her thought processes too.

“Do you like watching me read?” Violet asked abruptly.

_ How the bloody hell- _ Harry shook himself. “I - uh - yeah. It’s calming. I’ve always thought that.”

“Hermione told me last year you always watch me read. I hadn’t noticed until she pointed it out, if I’m being honest.”

“You? Not noticing something? Wow. The world really  _ is _ ending.”

“Oh -  _ shut it _ , Potter.”

He laughed, and Violet couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.

It was something to be said that the next day at breakfast, she kept her hair down. The side part with more hair was merely clipped back to keep it out of her face, and Harry had to respectfully not keep looking at her, much to the amusement of Ron and Hermione.

Violet cleared her throat awkwardly as she slid onto the bench next to Hermione. “Morning.”

“Morning,” the three of them chanted back. Harry furiously dug into his cereal, apparently in disbelief at what he was even seeing if he looked at Violet.

“While you were off wherever it was last night, I was able to round up a couple more people for this weekend,” Hermione said, idly flipping through that morning’s  _ Daily Prophet. _ “Hufflepuffs, to be exact.”

“Oh! Lovely. Earlier this week I managed to grab Luna and Cho…” Violet replied.

“You spoke to Cho?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes… she has a raging crush on you, by the way, so if she does show up to the Hog’s Head on Saturday it’ll be all the more entertaining,” she said, pouring herself a cup of tea.

Harry was resigned to the fact she may be right in that regard, but it still didn’t stop him from telling her, “you’re terrible. Also isn’t that mean?”

“It’s on you to reject her if she broaches you on the subject of dating. Besides, the  _ real _ reason I invited Cho was because she heard me chatting to Luna in the library. I’ve not spoken to her since she and Cedric used to sit with me if they ever found me upset.”

Harry said nothing. That particular aspect of their fourth year was not something either of them spoke about much, if at all if they could help it. Not that there was any need to at this point in time anyway - it was water under the bridge for all they cared.

“Exactly how many people will be coming on Saturday?” Harry asked.

“A handful,” Hermione said simply. Ron gave a shrug - he’d left it to the girls to sort this out.

“And er… well, how long do you think we’ll be? It’s just - well - Vi and I planned to… yeah.”

Hermione was holding back a smirk. “Shouldn’t take more than an hour, if you two plan on disappearing for the rest of the day.”

“Brilliant.”

He got back to his cereal after that, and Violet hid behind her cup of tea to the best of her ability.

By the time Saturday finally rolled around, the four friends were tense - Violet and Hermione in particular. They weren’t entirely sure who they could bank on actually showing up to the dingy little pub in the corner of Hogsmeade, but were pleasantly surprised when everyone they spoke to appeared and then some.

At first it seemed like it wasn’t going to go well. Harry was in disbelief that anybody there really wanted to be taught by him, that they were only really there to ask him about Cedric (which Zacharias Smith, one of the Hufflepuffs, did) and was ready to give up when Luna single handedly saved the day. She asked him about his Patronus.

It got the attention of everyone in the Hog’s Head back to where it should be, and ignited a flame in Harry. He told everyone who came about how out in the real world they couldn’t just pick themselves up and try again tomorrow if they got into a fight. That it had to be taken more seriously than that. It bewildered them all to see him speak so passionately, but not his closest friends.

They had been with him in some of those dangerous situations, after all.

“You just gave the room very good reasons why they need you - why  _ we _ need you,” Violet said, much to the surprise of a few nearby Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. For them it was a rarity to see her speak. “In fact, you’re only reinforcing the idea that you should be a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. After all - you got my marks up to scratch the past two years.”

Zacharias Smith chuckled the loudest out of everyone who  _ did _ chuckle at that remark. Violet shot him such a bizarre look that it took everything in Harry not to start laughing. Zacharias shrunk down in his seat after that, and ended up being one of the last people to write their name on the sign up sheet that Hermione had created. An agreement had been made that everyone would get back to Harry with their Quidditch practice and other extracurricular activity times so he could decide on a suitable date for the first official meeting.

“Just so you all know - this is effectively signing a contract,” Hermione announced, as everyone queued up to write their names down. “So you cannot go running off and telling a teacher about this.”

“What’ll happen if we do?” Fred said, writing his name down. “Not that I would.”

“You don’t want to know to find out,” she replied coolly. The ambiguity of her response made a few of them second guess - but they still signed up anyway and headed out of the Hog’s Head thereafter. Cho lingered in the doorway for a few seconds longer, trying to catch Harry’s eye until her friend practically dragged her off.

The four of them waited until everybody else had departed from the pub before setting off themselves, with Hermione happily rolling the scroll of parchment and popping it into her bag. They walked slowly back towards Hogsmeade, the silent question hanging between them about if and when they were going to part ways for the rest of the day.

Even though Violet was practically glued to Harry (it was easy enough to play off the fact her arm was looped through his elbow because of the crisp breeze), they both knew it would be awkward to ditch Ron and Hermione knowingly right now. 

“Honeydukes, anyone?” Violet finally broke the silence and tension. The murmurs of agreement were filled with relief and she had to refrain from laughing about that.

They headed to the little sweet shop which wasn’t as packed as it normally was: most people were leaving and making their way towards the Three Broomsticks with their pockets full of sweets and eager for a hot Butterbeer. Obviously, Honeydukes still had a hefty amount of customers inside, but that meant the four friends could talk without fear of being overheard.

“Sorry if this ruined your… date…” Hermione muttered to Violet once the girl had broken away from Harry on entering the shop. The two girls had split off from the boys, eyeing up the Sugar Quills.

“This was more important,” Violet said with a shrug. She went on tiptoe and glanced over the top of the shelf to see Harry and Ron apparently also in deep conversation on the other side of the store. When her boyfriend caught her looking, she went a little pink in the cheeks and set back down on her heels, more bashful than before. “Besides, it’s not like we’re going to be out of opportunities.”

“Careful though, Cho  _ really _ couldn’t take her eyes off Harry,” Hermione warned her. Violet merely shrugged again, actually picking up a couple of Sugar Quills and some Peppermint Toads.

“Hardly matter,” she replied. “I think you and Ron are in agreement he can’t take his eyes off of me. And at least half of Hogwarts would be if they paid more attention… I mean, did you  _ see _ how Zacharias Smith was-”

A sharp elbow to the rib from Hermione cut Violet off, who turned around to see that the aforementioned Hufflepuff was standing not more than three feet behind her alongside Ernie McMillan. He was apparently waiting patiently for the girls to finish their hushed conversation before he spoke.

“Didn’t mean to startle you both,” he said, clearing his throat. “Violet - I was wondering if you’d like to grab a Butterbeer with me?”

Violet’s eyebrows shot into her hairline and she blinked a couple of times. No… surely not…? She’d never spoken to him until today and even then it was mostly addressing a whole room. Not to mention how she had been entirely unamused at his enthusiasm of her blase statement about her Defence Against the Dark Arts.

“S-Sorry?” Violet found her tongue and voice somewhere inside her body again, not sure where they had disappeared to for a good ten seconds.

“Butterbeer? You and me?”

“I… erm… thank you? But no thank you… O.W.Ls year, you know? I don’t really - um - don’t really have the time to think about going for drinks with boys… or girls… um… yeah. Sorry.” Quite possibly the worst sentence she’d ever had to string together, and as put out as Zacharias looked, he mumbled something in understanding and then scurried off out of the shop with Ernie.

Even better: Harry and Ron had witnessed the entire interaction.

“Someone’s popular,” Harry teased her.

Violet rolled her eyes, telling him to “shut up” as she headed over to the counter to pay for her goodies. It didn’t phase him in the slightest, and when she came back he still couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face. She wasn’t annoyed - not really - but knew that it was going to be painfully awkward having to deal with Zacharias in the secret meetings now.

Once they were done in Honeydukes, they quickly nipped to the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer (with Violet actively hiding behind the boys so as to avoid any eye contact with Zacharias) and after that hasty drink, returned to the castle. The little bubble of secrecy was burst by the copious amounts of homework waiting for them once they returned, and much like the rest of the fifth years and upwards, they remained glued to the tables until late that night.

By the time the Common Room was emptying out, it was them, Ginny, Fred and George left. Time was spent idly chatting, and since nobody else was around, they dared to speak about the new group they had formed with a select few other students.

“It’s mad how you nearly got thirty - that’s a decent number,” Fred said.

“Enough to  _ really _ make the Ministry think we’re in the process of starting an actual army,” Violet added, curling up with her head on the arm of the sofa. She was tired, and wanted some sort of alone time with Harry once everyone else had gone to bed. He was sitting on the floor opposite her, and she sleepily watched him as the conversation carried on.

The warmth of the fire settled over her like a blanket, hazing her thoughts and making the voices around her muddy. As she started to drift off into slumber, a very sudden thought occurred to her and she sat bolt upright.

“That’s it!” she announced.

“Bloody hell, Vi, what’s it?” Ron had his hand over his heart. None of them had expected her to jump up so suddenly.

“Have we got a name for this group?” she asked, more wide awake than she felt like she’d ever been before. “If not - then the word ‘army’ has to be a part of it. Why not Potter’s Army? Since Harry is at the forefront of this.”

“Only because you, Hermione, and Ron made me,” he reminded her.

“I’m liking this…” Ginny mused, a thoughtful look on her face. “But don’t the Ministry thnk Harry’s a nutter?”

“Cheers for the reminder…”

She shook her head. “What I meant is that it’s not a name that would scare them. So why not Dumbledore’s Army? They’re bloody terrified that this is what he’s doing! So why not play into it?”

“Oh, Ginny, that’s brilliant,” Violet beamed at her. “Who’s up for that? Dumbledore’s Army, but D.A for short?”

There was a resounding agreement between the seven of them, and Hermione eagerly wrote it at the top of the parchment scroll that had all their names on it.


	64. The Room of Requirement: Part I

Their joy was short lived.

What should have been a nice detour in the shortcut passage behind the fourth floor tapestry on the way to Divination for Harry and Violet, was rudely interrupted by bad news.

They were trying to have a cosy moment before a day full of lessons neither of them were particularly in the mood for for a Monday, deciding that the shortcut on the fourth floor was the best spot to hide out. Violet left breakfast early citing a need to go to the library, whereas Harry mentioned he had forgotten something in his dormitory - and they snuck off one by one without cause for alarm.

Certainly they hadn’t been expecting Fred, George, and Ginny to use that same passageway as a quicker means to get up to Gryffindor Tower in an effort to grab Harry before his first lesson of the day.

“ _ Oh, _ this explains  _ so much, _ ” Fred said with a massive grin on his face. Harry and Violet jumped apart rather quickly, both of them wiping their mouths rather sheepishly and trying to avoid looking at their friends.

George was thoroughly impressed with their antics, while Ginny was smirking - looking quite smug with her arms folded as she tried her best to make eye contact with Violet.

“Seamus’ betting pool just got a whole lot more interesting,” she then said, which finally grabbed Violet’s attention.

“I’m sorry -  _ what? _ ” she shrieked.

“It’s been going since he asked you to the Yule Ball last year. I’m surprised you didn’t notice, but I’m thinking this is more of a testament to Seamus keeping it hush.”

“Anyway - being caught snogging behind a tapestry is now the least of your problems. Umbridge has put up a new decree,” George got straight to the point.

“Anything worse than boys and girls keeping eight inches apart?” Harry quipped, attempting to smooth down the back of his hair. It was messier than usual after Violet had her hands in it, and with Defence Against the Dark Arts later… he wasn’t taking any chances  _ now. _

“She’s banning clubs,” Fred carried on. “We were on our way up to the Tower to tell you, Harry. Big fat lie that was, eh?”

“More like a  _ white lie… _ ” Violet corrected with a raised eyebrow. “To echo a statement you presented me with last year: just keep your mouths shut and we won’t have a problem.”

“Lovely way of putting it…” Ginny remarked, but Fred and George knew exactly what she was referring to.

“Deal,” the twins said together.

“Yeah, yeah, we won’t expose your secret romance…” said the younger Weasley. “Assuming Ron and Hermione know?”

“Yep,” Harry said. “And nobody else outside the five of you need to know. For obvious reasons.”

“Then stop snogging behind this tapestry - it’s a more popular spot than you think.”

“We have another spot…” Violet said cryptically. “This was out of convenience - and a good thing too, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to tell us about Umbridge’s new decree.” She adjusted her bag on her shoulder, willing herself to not start going pink all of a sudden - she could feel it coming on. Her neck felt sweaty all of a sudden, and Violet wasn’t sure if it was down to being caught or because there was another stupid decree that put all of the DA at risk.

She was good with risk at this point - she and Harry did it every day by keeping their relationship a secret from the rest of the school to save themselves from gossip. It made her wonder about the room they used - their secret room - and how it could… shift to their needs.

“Have you guys ever encountered a room on the seventh floor-”

Violet didn’t even get to finish her question as Neville came flying through the tapestry, barrelling right into the twins. Thankfully the three of them were saved from falling to the ground entirely by Harry, Violet, and Ginny.

“Neville! What’s your hurry?” Ginny asked the out of breath boy once everyone had regained their balance.

“Did you - the decree - I thought Harry was-” He looked between the five of them, the confusion dawning on his face. “What are - what are you all doing here? Violet I thought you were going to the library before Divination?”

She turned to Harry. “This is one of those rare cases where the comedic timing being off is actually useful…”

“Shut up,” Harry retorted, and she tried not to laugh. “What’s wrong Neville?”

“I was gonna tell you at breakfast, but… have you ever been in that room on the seventh floor?” The boy was very excited. “I think it’s known as the come and go room?”

“Vi… you were about to mention the same thing…” Ginny said with a frown. “How did you both find it?”

“I was walking around seventh floor yesterday, thinking about how we needed somewhere to practice for DA! And it just… showed up?” Neville answered.

“See, I didn’t bring it up sooner because I used that place as somewhere to… hide…” Violet said carefully, managing to nudge Harry with her foot in a way that suggested he shouldn’t say a word right now. “But it does change a little bit depending on what I need… but if it can be big enough for about thirty of us - why not use it?”

There was a resounding agreement there, and some joy was sparked back into their lives.

* * *

Harry was somewhat frantic in the lead up to the first meeting. They had told Ron and Hermione about the news of the room, and their group (led by Neville) went to check out exactly how the room had presented itself to him. It was beautiful open space, with arches in the ceiling, training dummies, and frosted reflective walls.

Definitely going to work.

Although it meant Violet and Harry’s escapades were limited. With him requesting her help to come up with a coherent structure of lessons for the DA, homework, and Harry’s Quidditch practices, they couldn’t find time to go to their version of the room. It was fine, really, but it did limit them to figuring out a more effective way to use the shortcut behind the tapestry, and to using the Common Room to cosy up together late at night when everyone else had gone to bed.

Ron and Hermione being around was fine, but they only slipped into their unusual comfort around each other once entirely alone. Perhaps it was to save face and not to force their relationship on anyone, perhaps it was for privacy, perhaps a mixture of both.

There was something sweeter about this though. The atmosphere was more soothing as Violet lay her head in Harry’s lap in the evening before the first DA meeting. Her long hair was flowing out like spilled ink over the edge of his lap onto the rest of the sofa, and he was playing with it. It comforted the pair of them: Harry liked focusing on the detangling on any stray knots gently, while the feeling of his fingers gave Violet a tingling sensation in her head that made her sleepy.

Every now and then, his hand would drift down to stroke the sides of her face, brush over the tip of her nose, sometimes followed by him leaning down to press a kiss to her lips that would make her giggle because it tasted of what they’d had for dinner earlier that evening - always followed up by the distinctive note of pumpkin juice.

It was one of their more cherished quiet moments.

* * *

“Okay, so, stunning is a really useful tool - it’s a wizard’s bread and butter, really…” Harry explained to everyone. “And… Violet is going to help demonstrate.”

The two lines of students looked down towards her at the opposite end of the room, and she waved awkwardly, before getting into a fighting stance with her wand at the ready. The session had been going pretty well so far: Harry had announced the name of their little “club,” and Hermione had handed out fake Galleons with a Protean Charm on them - so when Harry decided on a date for the next meeting, it would pop up on all the Galleons each one of them had.

“And try not to do it non-verbally… I kind of need a chance to show everyone how it’s done properly,” he then added, flashing her a quick, cheeky grin.

Violet raised an eyebrow at Harry, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “For that remark, let’s make it a Duel.”

Harry faltered for a moment. “Sure, let’s - let’s do that, then!” He kept up his chirpy, teacher-like nature, until the moment Violet held her wand between her teeth and tied up her incredibly long hair into a bun. “Oh god…” Harry murmured.

“You’re done for, mate,” Ron was holding back laughter.

“Shut up, Ron,” Harry then addressed Violet again. “Shall we bow?”

“No need to be so formal… whenever you’re ready,  _ Potter, _ ” was her response as she got back into her fighting stance again. Harry mirrored her.

“Whenever  _ you’re _ ready, Merryworth-”

“ _ Stupefy!” _

As the red spell shot across the room towards Harry, he quickly reacted. “ _ Protego!” _

A thin, airy, white shield popped up in front of him, thus protecting him from the Stunning Spell she’d sent his way.

Violet waited for a moment, giving him a chance.

_ “Stupefy!” _ Harry cried.

“ _ Protego!” _

She was left unharmed.

_ “Rictusempra! _ ” was Violet’s next spell, catching Harry off guard enough that he was hit by the Tickling Charm and erupted into laughter.  _ “Stupefy!” _

He went flying backwards off his feet and slammed down onto the ground. Hard. Even Violet winced at that.

“Sorry!” Violet yelled across the room, not sure if she should go running to see if he was alright or not.

Harry sat up, rubbing the back of his head. “No need… Ron was right…”

There was a steady round of applause for the display.

Next up were Ron and Hermione; the former joking he’d go easy on her. Violet had to hold back a laugh at that, and remained highly amused when Hermione knocked him off his feet quicker than he could even think about casting the Stunning Spell. Naturally all the girls went to Hermione to go giggle with her about Ron.

The first session went on like that - everyone taking it in turns in pairs to try Stunning each other. Some were better than others, with a few near misses and some backfires - Harry still considered it an overall success.

Eventually it was Violet who noticed the time, and they had to call it for the night, lest they all got caught out of bed past curfew.

“You were brilliant today, by the way,” Harry told Violet quietly as they packed up their things along with everyone else.

“Thanks,” she said, then smirked. “You weren’t so bad yourself… Professor Potter.”

“Don’t be so obvious…” he warned her as they hung back, waiting for the other students to safely leave the room. Colin’s younger brother Dennis was up front with the Marauder’s Map, ushering people out as he could. “Although… that’s got a good ring to it.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder. “I know. That’s why I said it…” She started walking backwards away from him. “I’ll see you back in the Common Room. I think you’ve got a handle on getting everyone out.” Feeling bold, Violet shot him a wink, which definitely took him by surprise.

Not bothering to wait for his response, Violet turned on the balls of her feet and started to hurry out with everyone else. She pulled the band out of her hair so it fell down in a messy cascade of black, leaving Harry transfixed on it as it swished with her body movement while she caught up with Hermione and Ginny.

“That was fun,” she said to them as they hurried back to Gryffindor Tower. Ron was a few paces ahead with his brothers.

“You’re in a good mood,” Ginny remarked. “Did you like kicking Harry in the arse?”

“Something like that, yeah…”

It wasn’t even that - it had genuinely been fun getting together with everyone and actually practising spells that they should have been doing in lessons. Duelling Harry had just been the icing on that cake. The only weird thing was how long it took for him to get back to the Common Room - and when he did, he mildly terrified as he sat down.

“What’s up with you?” Ron asked.

“Cho tried to ask me out,” Harry said, his voice somewhat void. “I said no, obviously, but then she got upset…”

“How did you say ‘no?’” Hermione was suspicious.

“Awkwardly, probably,” Violet suggested, after giving Harry the once over. He nodded slowly in agreement with her. “Was it a straightforward kind of awkward, or was it so awkward you had to keep repeating yourself and therefore made it worse?”

His silence spoke volumes.

“You’re terrible with girls.”

“You are  _ literally _ my girlfriend…” he grumbled. “Besides you’re not any better - getting all googly eyed at Fleur last year…  _ and _ the way you said ‘be my boyfriend!’ I had to ask you out on a date on a slip of paper in History of Magic!”

“That’s besides the point,” Violet said quickly, catching the eye of Hermione who was beginning to struggle to hold back laughter. “How did Cho take it?”

“Badly, because I wasn’t really able to give her an excuse…”

“Is she coming back to the DA?”

“Is that your main concern?”

“Yes. You tried your best to politely reject her in your  _ special way _ and maintain our secrecy.” Violet shrugged. “The only thing I could want more is her not going off to blab to Umbridge.”

Harry sighed. “She is coming back next time, along with that friend of hers.”

“Excellent. Her Stunning Spell needs a lot of work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Was super intense at work, but I'm free for the forseeable future. Short one this time around, I know, but I'll be peppering in a fair bit of the DA stuff across the next few chapters anyway! Hope you all enjoyed regardless.


	65. Quidditch, 5th Year; Among Other Things

Even after that hiccough with Cho, things with Dumbledore’s Army went as smoothly as they possibly could for a secret, illegal club. The use of the fake Galleons as a means for Harry to set meetings meant there weren’t seemingly random Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws coming up to them at the Gryffindor table - Umbridge was already suspicious enough in their classes.

Harry and Ron now sat next to each other in Defence Against the Dark Arts, leaving Violet to sit with Hermione. That was now one of the few occasions Harry and Violet weren’t seen glued at the hip in lessons, the other instances being in Transfiguration and Herbology. It certainly unnerved Umbridge to no end, and she kept looking for excuses to punish them; not that she actually managed to come up with anything.

Either way - Dumbledore’s Army meant that Harry’s temper during that particular class was kept in check, and he was able to breeze through the work once more.

Then there was the case of Harry and Violet: still together, but not obviously so. Perhaps it was because their main, closest friends now knew of their relationship that it was far easier to be around them. There was no sense of urgency or constant need to be hidden. Even though their more affectionate sides would only come out if they were entirely alone, the pair of them didn’t feel so strange holding hands under a table if they were the Weasley twins and Ginny, for instance. Or, if they were sitting as one large group by the fire, they were completely at ease to sit with each other closely, with the rest of the Gryffindor students unaware.

Of course, that didn’t stop them from occasionally retreating to their version of the Room of Requirement for some proper alone time or they’d wait everyone out in the Common Room and get cosy by the fire before ultimately going to their respective dormitories.

“Neville’s really improved,” Violet remarked on one of those nights when they were the only two left awake.

Grateful for the distraction from his Herbology homework, Harry set his quill down. Violet was curled up much like a cat in the spot on the soft next to him. She’d finished her homework about an hour before him, but had elected to stay up and read. She hugged a battered copy of  _ Little Women _ in her arms.

“He has. They all have,” he replied, managing to sink further into the squashy sofa and drape an arm over Violet. “God - when did I become an actually good teacher?”

“I think you’ve always had it in you,” she murmured in response, and he laughed.

“Nah. That’s you. You’re the one who taught  _ me _ last year.”

“Then you simply learn from the best,” she chuckled, closing her eyes. He ruffled her hair, and she batted his hand away in annoyance. “But remember - you and I were Remus’ dynamic duo in third year. Showing off. Demonstrations. You unintentionally had it in you then.”

“And so did you. You hated getting up in front of people but you still did it. Maybe you should be a teacher instead of a Healer,” Harry suggested.

“What would I teach though? Certainly not Defence Against the Dark Arts…”

“What about Potions? You’re really good at Potions. Scarily good. It’s surprising that Snape doesn’t hate you  _ less _ than he does…”

“Snape will probably have to retire or die before I can consider that,” she mused, glancing up at Harry who had started laughing again. “What?”

“I think I know which outcome I’d prefer…”

Violet sat upright. “You’re awful. Can’t say I disagree entirely, but - awful.” After a momentary pause in which she eyed the abandoned homework, Violet raised an eyebrow. “Given up for the night?”

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. She had to hold back a little smile at that: as much as Harry tried to keep his hair neat, every time he touched it he sent it in all sorts of scruffy directions that she very much liked.

“Yeah, I give up. I’ll finish it at lunchtime… Quidditch practice tomorrow evening.”

“When’s the first match of the season?”

“Next weekend. Against Slytherin…” Harry groaned. “We’re training daily from next week…”

“You’ll be fine. Always are.” Violet leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He took some comfort in that, because usually she was right - he was always fine when it came to Quidditch. Until of course, he wasn’t, and for once Violet was wrong.

It didn’t matter that Gryffindor was winning. The Slytherins had made up a cruel chant abou Ron and his goalkeeping skills, which irritated Violet and Hermione to no end in particular as they watched the game. In fact - as ever - it irked all the Gryffindors, and eventually it soured the victory.

Aside from the chant, what really got to Violet was when a Bludger went flying into the back of Harry once he’d caught the Snitch.

“What the-” She was scanning the stadium to see who could have possibly done it. Eventually her eyes fell on Crabbe, and she scowled whilst watching him fly down to the ground. Violet pulled her wand out of her cloak and slipped it up her sleeve as they began to exit from the stands to return to Gryffindor Tower - an action that didn’t go unmissed from Hermione.

“Violet - you can’t! Whatever it is you’re going to do - don’t!” the girl pleaded as she grabbed her. “Madam Hooch will deal with it!”

Violet snorted. “I know that much, but wouldn’t it be lovely if Crabbe was hit with the Jelly-Legs Curse unaware…?”

“I’m not condoning this.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Violet shrugged out of Hermione’s grip and darted back through the crowds and towards the changing rooms, where she was met with an unpleasant amount of chaos. She peered round the corner to see Harry and George flying at Malfoy while the rest of the Gryffindor team held back Fred.

Violet frowned: what on earth had happened here? Was it to do with the chant? She had no idea, but amongst the chaos she pointed her wand at Crabbe and muttered the Jelly-Legs Curse. His sudden falling over and being unable to get back up baffled everyone present, and stopped Harry and George from pummelling Malfoy - although Madam Hooch was now even more furious that she had to find out who had set the curse on Crabbe.

That was when Violet made a run for it.

She hadn’t been gone from the crowd too long and managed to catch up before they even got back to the school, although it left her incredibly out of breath. It took a little longer for her to fight her way through the crowd until she found Hermione again, and by that time they were in the Entrance Hall.

“You could get into so much trouble!” Hermione hissed at her on their way up the stairs.

“Nobody saw me, don’t worry… besides, you can talk! You’re the one who came up with the idea for our secret club…”

“Stop it,” she snapped in response. “I didn’t target anyone!”

“Just like Crabbe probably didn’t target Harry?”

Hermione couldn’t respond to that.

“Be careful, Violet. Really. I know the pair of you would do anything for each other, but there are  _ lines… _ ”

“And Crabbe crossed it first,” Violet sighed as they trailed behind a group of Gryffindors to get into the Common Room. “Come on, Hermione, even you have to admit - if there was someone you really liked and had feelings for - wouldn’t you do the same?”

Uneasy, Hermione pulled off her cloak and collapsed into an armchair, with Violet in the corner of the sofa closest to her. “I don’t know… maybe…? Depends, I guess…”

“On what?”

“If they’d do the same for me.”

“Obviously they would. You’re great, Hermione. Anybody would be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks, Violet.”

Minor celebrations started happening in the Common Room for Gryffindor’s first Quidditch victory of the year. Ginny came over to join the girls with Butterbeers for each of them. The three of them clinked the bottles together in a toast before drinking. Whilst Hermione and Ginny fell into idle conversation, Violet sank back in her seat and merely listened, scanning the room for the team. She could see Angelina, Katie, and Alicia were back - but where were the boys?

Her question was answered soon enough when three of them came storming in.

“Banned!” Harry said, perching on the edge of the sofa next to Violet. Not entirely sure how to react, she mechanically handed him her Butterbeer which he had an angry swig from.

“W-what?” she eventually stammered out.

“Umbridge has banned us three from Quidditch,” Fred said, as he and George joined them. Unfortunately Angelina overheard and came over with a terrifying fury on her face.

“What do you mean you’re banned?!” she screeched at them.

“We barely even touched the little prick, Angelina, you saw that!” George said. “But Umbridge didn’t think detention was enough of a punishment from McGonagall. So we’re all banned from Quidditch.”

“I’m sorry…” Harry said, pinching the bridge of his nose in distress. Violet rested a hand on his leg, giving his knee a comforting squeeze, to which he shot her a small smile for.

“Great…” Angelina huffed. “We’re going to have to do tryouts  _ again _ …”

And thus she left them to it.

“On the upside… someone chucked Crabbe a  _ really _ good Jelly-Legs Curse…” George then said.

“What?!” Ginny’s eyes lit up at that piece of information.

“Hooch was  _ furious _ . As if she wasn’t pissed off enough for us going for Malfoy - that tipped her over the edge. But then she realised it wasn’t any of us and just did the counter-curse,” Fred added. “Nobody saw who did it!”

“Amazing,” Ginny grinned. “Oh, I would have  _ loved _ to have seen his face as he fell over…”

“It was brilliant…” Harry said quietly as he gave Violet her Butterbeer back. “ _ Really _ brilliant.”

He slyly winked at her, and her face started to flush pink. Of course he knew it had been her - why wouldn’t he have figured that out? As if she didn’t need any more confirmation, Harry leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Can you teach me how to do that?”

Violet nodded as subtly as she could. She didn't know what it was specifically about the way he had just asked her that question, but she knew that he was absolutely going to be the death of her in the best way possible. It didn’t help when his hand found its place on her shoulder. Perhaps a little too obvious, but the rest of Gryffindor house didn’t notice; even if they did, they probably didn’t care. They were all too preoccupied with their first Quidditch win of the year.

“Has anyone seen Ron?” Ginny asked.

That brought Violet back to reality. “N-no. God - I hope he’s alright… That  _ stupid _ chant…”

“And McGonagall wondered why we all tried to jump Malfoy…” Harry said. “Among other things he said after the match.”

“What did he say?”

“He was being horrible about my mum, and about Mrs Weasley. Pretty certain he was on the way to making comments about  _ your _ mum too, if we hadn’t gone at him…”

“Anything about my parents for luck?” Hermione asked dryly.

“Yep - as always.”

“How on earth did that piece of scum even become a Prefect?” Violet muttered. “Wait - don’t - I think I know the answer to that one. His father, probably?”

“Probably…”

It was at that point that Ron decided to show face. Unhappy and deep in thought, he plonked himself down next to Ginny.

“I’ve been thinking - and I’m gonna resign,” he said conclusively.

“Bad idea,” Violet told him. “Harry, Fred, and George are all banned. Angelina’ll throw another fit if you resign now.”

“Oh bloody hell - what?!”

“Umbridge,” his friends and siblings chanted in response.

“Great… so what now then?” he asked glumly.

“Tryouts again - but for Beaters and a Seeker,” Harry said.

“Go on, Vi, try for Seeker.”

“Oh - get out of it!” she hissed.

“You’re fast!”

“That was on Harry’s broom, unless he lets me borrow-”

“Oh yeah, about that… Umbridge took our brooms too…” the boy admitted.

There was a moment of silence, and then-

“I’m not using one of the school’s Cleansweeps,” Violet said adamantly, shaking her head. “If anyone should try out for Seeker, it has to be Ginny.”

“Are we really having this discussion after I just got booted off the team?” Harry’s tone was exasperated, but it made them laugh. 

Then by one of the windows, Violet noticed an owl. It was tapping its little beak on the pane, and she went to go let it in. Immediately it hopped onto her shoulder, nipping on her ear lightly as she pulled a letter from its foot.

“Thanks, Virgil…” she said, craning her neck awkwardly to the owl and kissing it on the top of his head. He flew off immediately after that.

“Isn’t that your dad’s owl?” Harry said as he walked over to her.

Violet nodded as she stared down at the letter addressed to her, a sick feeling building up in her stomach. She hasn’t written to her parents like normal, and she knew the only reason they hadn’t tried writing to her was because Lupin had probably warned them off it. This meant that for whatever reason she was receiving a letter - it wasn’t a good one.

She opened it with trembling fingers.

_ My dearest Violet, _

_ Things have gotten dicey for your mum at work. She’s in St Mungo’s. I can’t say much more than that in a letter, it’s all very private. But it’s bad. Professor McGonagall has been made aware of what’s happened, so she should speak to you soon. _

_ Dad _

Her breath caught in her throat; grating and sharp. The nauseous feeling in her stomach intensified, and before she knew it, Violet had thrust the letter into Harry’s palms and was marching out of Gryffindor Tower.

She felt hot. She needed air. Was that sweat? Was she really sweating? Why was it so warm? Her head was spinning as she headed towards the nearest girl’s bathroom - it was somewhere along the seventh floor. Why did it feel like it was taking forever to get to?

The moment she arrived into the bathroom, she dashed to one of the cubicles, dropped to her knees, and vomited. And she kept vomiting, and hoping that she was the only person in there right now, because she didn’t want anyone else to hear her expelling up her guts like that. She didn’t want people asking questions. She hated that. She hated that as much as she currently hated her mother.

But did Violet really hate her mother? Yes… she must have done. She could be worried and still hate her for what she did over the summer, right? That was allowed, wasn’t it? At the same time she was wishing that she’d forgiven Genevive, but perhaps that was only to absolve her of any guilt that she was feeling right now as she was continually sick, over and over.

Bile stung her throat, and Violet started sobbing into the toilet bowl. Her whole body heaved with them, and she wondered if she was a bad person for not forgiving her mother, because even now she still didn’t.

“Violet?” Hermione’s voice tentatively called out. All that she was answered with were cries. “Violet we’ve got - we’ve got Professor McGonagall with us.”

Violet sniffed and straightened up, flushing the toilet as she did so. She could hear whispers floating across the room to her, and she hiccoughed while trying to keep back tears.

“Hey…” Harry’s voice called out. “Doesn’t look like anyone else is in here…” it was getting closer to her. “I’m coming in. It’s just me. Hermione and McGonagall are outside. I promise it’s just me.”

Tentatively she stood up and opened the door a crack, making eye contact with Harry. He was steadily approaching her with his hands up as if in surrender, albeit he was still carrying the letter in one of them. He was worried. Really worried.

She stepped out of the cubicle, breathing heavily as she walked to Harry. He brought his arms around her, comforting her as she cried on him instead.

“Am - am I bad?” she asked him shakily.

“W-what?”

“For - for not f-forgiving her?”

He sighed, his grip tightening around her. “No! Of course not! And nobody thinks that either, before you ask.”

Violet nodded, and slowly broke out of his grip to go rinse out her mouth. She was still very shaky as she did so, but swilling the cold water around in her mouth refreshed her enough. She didn’t bother making herself look more presentable, and instead allowed Harry to lead her out into the corridor, where Hermione and McGonagall were anxiously waiting.

“Miss Merryworth, perhaps we should go to my-”

“Here’s fine,” Violet sighed, rubbing her eyes and leaning against the wall.

“I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Please tell me what happened to my mother?” she sounded tired now. “I know it was probably to do with… you know… and her siblings. So just. Please. Tell. Me.

Violet looked to McGonagall with pleading eyes - begging her to get it over with. Rip off the plaster, as it were. Right now she wanted nothing more to return to her dormitory and curl up on her bed with the curtains around her four poster bed drawn shut.

With a relenting sigh, McGonagall spoke quietly, “Lamia Oaks. The Healers aren’t sure what she did to your mother but it was - she’ll be in St Mungo’s until further notice.”

Violet’s heart jumped into her throat, and she had to hold back further tears. “Is she - is she physically hurt?”

“Apparently it’s hard to tell. Your father will be sending me updates later, but when they found her…” Even McGonagall appeared pained. “Miss Merryworth, I think it’s best I spare you the details-”

“I need to know. Lamia’s always been good at creating spells. Mum told me that much about her.”

“You know too much for your own good, girl!” The teacher was taken aback - why wouldn’t Genevive spare Violet some horror? “But  _ fine _ \- if you really want to know: When Alastor and Remus found her, she wouldn’t stop screaming.”

“Right.” Violet didn’t know how to react. Her mother. The strongest, most formidable yet most caring woman she knew. Reduced to screaming.  _ What had Lamia done? _ “Anything else?”

“Dexter has been confirmed as a Death Eater.”

Silence. And then-

“I’ll have more information for you tomorrow morning, but if you need to leave the school to visit-”

“I don’t need to leave,” Violet muttered quietly, now staring at her shoes. Her stomach gave a tiny lurch, but it wasn’t anything too worrisome. She knew her mother wouldn’t expect her to visit. Perhaps Remus might expect her to go, but nobody could force her to.

“My door is always open if you need to talk, Miss Merryworth…” McGonagall said softly before reaching out to squeeze her shoulder and walking off, leaving Violet with Harry and Hermione alone in the seventh floor corridor.

The nausea was all of a sudden replaced by a strange numbness. Emptiness. Like she hadn’t just been vomiting out of sheer worry for her mother. Did that absolve her of guilt? Did that make up for the fact she didn’t want to go see her? Maybe to a stoic it would - and her mother could be stoic at the best of times.

“I need to sleep…” Violet muttered meekly.

“Okay. Let’s head back then…” Hermione replied, linking an arm around Violet’s elbow and beginning to lead her slowly back to the Common Room. Harry followed a couple of paces behind them. Violet occasionally glanced over her shoulder at him, wishing that he had linked his arm with hers instead.

Once in the Common Room, Violet unhooked herself from Hermione and made a beeline for her dormitory, trying to avoid looking at her other friends’ faces as she went.

She did as exactly intended: she shut the curtains on her four poster bed and curled up in a ball. She didn’t bother taking off her shoes. She simply waited until sleep took her, empty and dreamless.

* * *

“Her aunt can… make up spells?” Ron was completely baffled.

He, Harry, and Hermione were sitting by the fire together. It was late. Celebrations stopped before dinner, and so the pair took that chance to catch the Weasley boy up when they had a little more privacy in the Common Room. Homework lay abandoned on the floor between the three of them. Violet had yet to resurface.

“That’s what Violet told me… Something about being good with using information she learns,” Harry said with a frown.

“To be fair - anyone could create spells if they put their mind to it,” Hermione considered thoughtfully. “So if Lamia used a spell of her own creation on Genevive-”

“Don’t,” Harry told her through gritted teeth. “As much as Violet still really hates her mum right now, don’t think about the idea of Gen not getting better… if she’s at St Mungo’s, and has the whole of the Order behind her, someone will figure out something.”

“Probably Alastor or Remus.”

“Maybe Dumbledore,” Ron suggested. “Think about it - he’s meant to be one of the most powerful wizards, right? What if they get him to help?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno. We’ll find out soon enough.”

“And Dexter?” Hermione prompted.

“Guess Gen and Thomas were too late, weren’t they?”

“I - I don’t think they were…” Violet was wandering over to them, holding another letter in her hands. She dropped down onto the floor next to Harry. “Well… they were late in that they couldn’t stop him from becoming a Death Eater… but…”

She handed Harry the letter, which on the front of it said:

_ There’s a counter curse. _

And when opening it, a curious Latin phrase was scribbled on the page.

“I think Dexter dislikes Lamia as much as I do,” Violet said, resting her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I think that’s his handwriting.”

“Can you trust that? That you  _ think _ one of your cousins - who took a few opportunities to torment - hates his aunt enough to essentially betray Voldemort?” Harry asked.

“It took so long for him to be initiated once he left school, but Harry - you said Willmott was there that night. They took him to get initiated as soon as they got that call, but it’s taken months for Dexter…”

“Violet-”

“Most of Dexter’s goading was ego based. Not family based. That was Willmott - Willmott was the purist out of them two not Dexter!” she snapped. “Willmott was the typical Slytherin. Dexter was a Ravenclaw with some pure blood ideals…”

Violet sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. Harry handed the letter back to her.

“I’ll come with you if you take this to McGonagall tomorrow,” was all he said.

“Thanks,” she said with a small smile.

“And here,” Ron said, reaching into his bag and pulling out something obviously wrapped in a napkin. Violet took it and opened it to find garlic bread. “Figured you might be a bit hungry when you woke up - so grabbed what seemed best.”

She was touched. “Thank you, Ron.”

The four friends fell to silence while the fire crackled in front of them as Violet ate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the unintentional break! I was on a bit of a cool down from writing, as I'm now unemployed and you'd be surprised at how much writing I did as part of my job. Brain was just having a bit of a wind down from that, but now we're back! I don't really have a set update time, but it'll be fairly regular. I do have other WIPs to be getting on with as well (fanfic or otherwise!) Hope you all had lovely Christmasses and are staying safe and well.


	66. The Room of Requirement: Part II

Harry was true to his word the next morning.

They didn’t bother waiting until after breakfast that Sunday. All they did was wait for Umbridge to take her leave before McGonagall from the staff table, before heading up to speak to their Head of House. Violet was trembling as she handed the letter over to the woman.

“I - I got this last night. I don’t know if it’ll help, but this is Dexter’s handwriting…” she mumbled. McGonagall’s eyebrows shot up at that remark, and unfolded the letter to see the counter curse.

“I see…” Her lips drew into a thin line. “Well, I’ll be sure to pass this on. Thank you, Miss Merryworth. Now, are you sure you don’t-”

“As much as I am upset about this, I have no desire to see my mother, Professor. I’m sure you’re  _ well _ aware of how extreme she was over the summer, and I haven’t exactly forgiven her as of yet,” Violet snapped. She didn’t mean to snap, she knew that much, and certainly not at McGonagall. It was lucky that the woman understood where she was coming from and said nothing of it.

“In that case, if you are feeling any kind of distress this week, consider yourself excused from handing in any Transfiguration work that’s due this week,” McGonagall offered, folding the letter back up and slipping it into a pocket in her robes. “If you’d like, I can talk to your other Professors? Just for this week, of course, Miss Merryworth.”

Violet shifted uncomfortably from toe to toe for a moment. “Well…” She glanced at Harry, who merely shrugged; something of which McGonagall raised an eyebrow at. “Admittedly this was one of the harder essays you’ve set… and Transfiguration isn’t usually a subject I turn to to distract myself, so…” She scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “Um, if it’s okay if I don’t hand it in this week, I would be grateful for that. The other subjects are alright. I’m near enough on top of everything else anyway.”

McGonagall nodded, a rare, small smile coming to her face. “Not a problem.” She took a sip of tea. “I’m sure Mr Potter would appreciate the extra time as well. Off you go, you two.”

Stunned by that last remark, the pair scurried off back to their seats, with both Ron and Hermione eyeing them curiously.

“What just happened?” Hermione asked. “You were up there for longer than we thought you’d be.”

“McGonagall’s given me and Harry extra time on Transfiguration this week,” Violet said simply, going for another slice of toast. She spread a thick layer of blackberry jam onto it.

Ron’s jaw dropped. “Why?!”

“I think because I won’t go visit mum, she probably reckons I need a bit of head space.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair - but why Harry?!”

Harry snorted. “Violet looked at me.”

“What?”

“When McGonagall suggested Violet didn’t need to hand anything into her this week, she looked at me.”

“I honestly don’t know why I did,” the girl admitted, nibbling on the corner of her toast. As much as she wanted it, her appetite was thin. Either way - she needed something to keep her going until lunch. “Wasn’t sure if I should take her up on the offer. She probably worked out we were helping each other on it.”

“From a look?” Harry didn’t quite believe it.

“I don’t know, Harry,” she was exasperated. “She’s just being nice. Add in the fact  _ you _ were the one who ended up coming into the girls bathroom yesterday… she knows about the situation with mum over the summer…”

“Well, it’s very nice of McGonagall to do that, whatever the reason,” Hermione said brightly.

“Even if she did go mental about the fact I was ready to beat up Malfoy?” Harry prompted dryly.

“This is different. You still have detentions with her, don’t you? And you’re banned from Quidditch?”

“Quidditch was Umbridge…” he grumbled in response.

For the rest of the day after that, the other three tried to get Violet to do something other than homework but she wasn’t having any of it. She would last about half an hour of reading something unrelated to school work and then eventually pull out her homework again. She was extremely agitated, and apparently unable to focus on anything.

Every now and then Violet would pace, mulling over the past twenty four hours. She didn’t like it. There was now a part of her that wanted to go and visit her mother, but she suspected a part of that was down to the fact she knew her father would need her more. Of course that would be it. She wanted to see her dad more than anything right now.

After her third bout of pacing in the Common Room that afternoon, Harry sighed deeply enough that it made her stop in her tracks. She looked at him, doe eyed, as he put his quill down and stood up.

“What?” she asked quietly.

“Let’s go for a walk…” he said just as quietly, handing her her jumper. Taken aback, Violet nodded and pulled on her jumper all the same, allowing Harry to lead her out of the Common Room.

Once they were in the silent, echoing corridors of Hogwarts and sure they weren’t going to be seen, Harry slipped his hand into hers. Neither of them said anything for sometime, but Violet started chewing on her lip as she grew more and more nervous with every second that ticked by. She risked a glance at Harry to see he was rather contemplative, as if he didn’t know what to say.

As usual they went to the seventh floor corridor, but they didn’t go to their room. The corridors of Hogwarts were empty, so they merely sat on the windowsill.

“Talk to me,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him, curious. Then before she could stop her stupid mouth, “Talk to  _ me. _ ”

He let out a light laugh. “Okay… that’s fair… neither of us like talking about what’s bothering us, do we?”

“Even though we already sort of spoke about that…” Violet sighed, her mind already distracted from thoughts of her mother. “Old habits die hard.”

“I think you should go first,” he offered.

She chewed on her lip again, trying to figure out how to string a sentence together now that her mind had leapt back to Genevive. “There’s too much going around in my head about it all… it’s why I’m so jittery.”

“Take a break. Have today off. God knows you keep telling me to do that - listen to your own advice for once!” Harry urged her. “I’m - I’m not a project, Vi.”

Taken aback by that remark, tears sprang to her eyes very suddenly. She blinked them back and wasn’t sure how she held such a steady voice. “Is - is that’s what’s been bothering you? That I keep trying to help you?”

“You left off it for a bit and only did it when I asked for it, but… I dunno, the past week or so you’ve been doing it again…”

“I - I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Besides - that’s actually the least of my problems. I told you about that dream with the locked door, didn’t I?”

She nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

“I can remember what it looked like now,” Harry carried on. “Black. Door handle was in the centre. Dark shiny brick walls-”

“That’s in the Ministry of Magic…” she mumbled, her brow furrowed. “Why would you be dreaming about that? Unless it’s do with-”

“Voldemort. Yeah. How - how did you know it was at the Ministry?”

“For my hearing - I walked down a corridor full of doors like that in the Department of Mysteries,” Violet sighed and leaned back against one of the arches in the window. “You don’t think mum was down there when it… happened…?”

“I mean, Moody found her, and they’re both Aurors, so…”

“But Remus was there too. Unless Moody summoned him.”

“Could be that, yeah.”

“Over the summer when you were catching me up on stuff - you mentioned Voldemort’s after a weapon? So it’s got to be down in the Department of Mysteries if you’re dreaming about a door down there,” Violet surmised thoughtfully. Harry hummed in agreement.

“Vi?”

“Yeah?”

“If you need to be upset about your mum, just be upset. Even if you can’t put it into words. And if you’re not upset, you’re not a bad person for it.”

She nodded, a weight lifted from her shoulders, in a weird way. She didn’t know why she felt she needed permission to feel a certain way, but perhaps that was the guilt. She was probably going to hold onto that guilt forever, even after she and Genevive made up.

Then she actually cried again, and Harry had his arms around her immediately. She cried into his shoulder like she did the day previous, not sure how one person could even cry that much. She cried about the summer, her mother’s current status in St Mungo’s, Umbridge - everything she could. It felt good. Cathartic. Violet was thankful the corridor remained empty for that time, and so was Harry as he stroked her hair.

“It’s okay…” he murmured when she was showing signs of calming down. “Did that help?”

“A bit,” she replied, sniffling and sitting up straight again. “Sorry about your shirt.” It was tearstained, but he merely waved it off.

“‘S fine,” Harry said. “You always go back to your old self when you’re sad, you know that, right?”

“My old self?”

“Well - the you that doesn’t talk to anyone. Bit scary sometimes,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, and Violet chuckled.

“I should probably stop doing that, shouldn’t I?”

“Would be helpful, yeah.”

“Stop being so angry all the time then,” she countered, hopping off the windowsill and beckoning for Harry to do the same.

“I’m not-” He cut himself short when seeing the look on Violet’s face as they started walking again. “Okay, yeah… yeah, I guess I am. I dunno why though.”

“Let me know when you figure it out?”

“Obviously.”

And the tension and the worry between the pair of them was gone. Both of them feeling lighter than before; it made the pair of them wonder for a brief moment if secret relationships were worth it, but after that - definitely. Definitely worth it. Violet was less jittery for the rest of the day but still avoided Transfiguration homework like the plague.

The following morning, McGonagall slipped Violet a note on the way out of the Great Hall with an update regarding Genevive, and thankfully it was good news: the counter curse that was supplied worked, but Thomas wanted to come visit during the next Hogsmeade trip to talk about it in more detail. Her mother was going to be recovering for a couple more weeks before going straight back into work.

Violet methodically tore up the note once she was done reading it, opting to set it on fire later on in their D.A session.

“You’d think this would be over, but no. I’m probably going to get an earful from dad.”

Harry snorted, “Yeah, sure, Thomas Martin Merryworth: giving his precious daughter an earful.”

Ron ducked his head down low and really focused on his cereal so that he didn’t end up laughing.

“Since when did you know my dad’s middle name?” Violet asked, and Harry blanched.

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“For once I actually agree with the sarcastic comment you made,” she said dryly, sipping on her tea.

“Get a room you two…” Ginny grumbled as she sat down next to Hermione. “Before this progresses to the smirking.”

The pair didn’t say anything, and Violet eventually pocketed the torn up note and that was that.

There was a buzz of excitement in classes today - as there always was when a D.A. session was due to happen - and it made the day go by a lot slower, like always when one was looking forward to something a little too much. When it finally got to that part of the day, adrenaline was running high as ever as Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws alike hurried to the Room of Requirement, trying to be sneaky as possible.

Violet stood on guard that night with the Marauder’s Map, giving people the all clear to quickly go and head inside. Usually Colin or his brother Dennis would do it, but after Dennis had had a particularly bad lesson with Umbridge earlier that day, she spared the pair of them the extra worry despite their usual encouragement.

Once the last couple of stragglers were safely in the Room, Violet muttered “Mischief Managed” and closed up the Map before heading in herself. She was pleased to see Harry had already gotten started on that day’s lesson, and she smiled.

He really was well and truly in his element teaching everyone, and it made her wonder why he even wanted to be an Auror in the first place. Teaching came so naturally to him, and even though he didn’t really need to help  _ her, _ she still pretended as if she needed it. Not as if she and Hermione had helped him sort out bits and pieces of this in the first place.

Her spellwork was never perfect, but she could get the hang of things better than the others quicker, something of which she knew she shouldn’t take so much pride in, but did. Even if sometimes it did leave an unsettling feeling in her stomach that this was probably how Lamia Oaks had become as skilled as she was.

Violet pushed those thoughts to the side: the Room of Requirement was her happy place. Whether it was just her and Harry on her own, or with Dumbledore’s Army… she wouldn’t let herself think about her family in here. Not like that, anyway.

As November carried on, so did the weekly sessions - even if they weren’t on any set day of the week. It was the light of all their lives while Hogwarts was pretty much being run by Umbridge at this point. Dumbledore was hardly anywhere to be seen, and the quartet came to the conclusion he was busy with the Order if anything.

Sometimes after the sessions - if they had time before curfew - the group would sit around and just relax. Chat a bit. Get to know each other. Violet had to avoid Zacharias Smith like the plague when that happened, opting instead to go find company and solace with Luna, whom she was growing rather fond of (even if she did dislike  _ The Quibbler, _ but she wouldn’t dare tell the girl that).

It felt good to talk about normal stuff, between Umbridge and still being somewhat worried about her mother, Violet was happily distracted with her homework and Dumbledore’s Army. Not to mention the ever more frequent trysts between herself and Harry. Things were a lot easier after they realised their main problem was just communicating the bad feelings effectively enough.

It took them to a place of actually understanding each other.

Sometimes on a weekend, late at night, they’d be curled up together in their version of the Room of Requirement, staring up at the starry ceiling and discussing various “what ifs” about their lives, which would then lead to actually talking about what was bothering them. 

Harry’s dreams about the door in the Ministry of Magic were troubling him more and more, and he was afraid to write to Sirius because of what had happened to Violet’s owl. Violet knew that Genevive was out of St Mungo’s in the latter half of November, and she was anticipating the visit of Thomas during the last Hogsmeade weekend of that term.

Those were things that were briefly spoken of, and allowed to fade off into the air around them until they didn’t feel as down as before, and could actually kiss without hesitation. Sometimes it went a little further than just kissing - a shy exploration of each other’s bodies with hands underneath clothes, but never more than that. Not yet, anyway.

Sometimes on a weekend, they would fall asleep in there, well and truly undisturbed by the rest of the world. Those were the nights that Harry would have a dreamless sleep, and Violet would often dream of a better summer than the one she’d had that year.

The Room of Requirement allowed them to be normal teenagers for a short time, just a stone’s throw away from their homework, of course.


	67. Not Quite A Proper Date

“What time does your dad want to meet you?”

“Two o’clock. That gives us a couple of hours, and then we’ll go see him. Three Broomsticks I think.”

“You… want me to come with you?”

“I - yes?” Violet tried not to laugh about the fact that Harry was confused about that idea. “I don’t particularly fancy going by myself anyway…” She reached up from where she was lying with her head in his lap, beginning to fiddle with one of the buttons on his cardigan. Violet liked the look of the cardigan on Harry. Something about it made him feel more cosy as a person. “Besides - dad won’t mind. You’re well liked by my parents as it is.”

“Will he be able to tell? That me and you… you know…”

Violet shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s never been one to notice things like that. If he does - he turns a blind eye to it.”

“Right… right…” Harry went quiet for a moment, before murmuring, “Is that like - a Thomas thing? Or a dad thing?”

Violet looked up at him thoughtfully. “It’s a dad thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr Weasley had had to do it over the years. Dads can be weird like that.”

“Huh. Yeah.”

They were lucky the Common Room was empty at this hour: it was just them and the fire, and perhaps it was a little too late in the night for them to still be awake. It didn’t matter. It was now the very early hours of Saturday morning before the last Hogsmeade trip of the term; they had no school to worry about.

Harry started running his fingers through Violet’s hair and she smiled as her eyes closed.

“Dread to think what would happen if I actually brushed your hair,” he quipped.

“There’s a brush in my bag…” she replied, and Harry faltered for a second. “If you fancy it,” Violet then added, opening her eyes again and sitting up. Bashful but willing, Harry picked up her school bag from the floor and rooted around in it until he pulled out said hair brush.

She turned so that her back was to him, and he was faced with a messy mass of long, wavy, black hair. Harry placed the brush to the top of her head and was about to sweep down when Violet stopped him.

“Go in sections,” she told him. “Starting from the bottom up. And then all the way from top to bottom.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“In case there’s tangles. You won’t pull out my hair then.”

“I - right. Okay.”

So he did as she said. Somehow through it all they grew closer - if that was even possible for them at this rate - and even Harry found the process soothing. Perhaps it was due to how methodical it was; how Violet had her own way of doing it that he followed, and that was why he soon found himself drifting off to sleep by the time he was done.

“It’s nice seeing you relax. Seeing you calm,” he told her.

“Same goes to you,” Violet replied, taking the brush from him and putting it back in her bag. “How’s the anger doing?”

“A bit better now that it’s closer to the end of term. I - I want you to know that I don’t wanna ever get angry with you,” Harry told her in earnest, and it made her heart soften. “And if I do - I don’t mean it.”

“It’s okay,” she told him, reaching over to take his hand. “I get it. It’s fine. Really.”

“How are you so understanding? What if-”

“Harry,” Violet’s tone cut through his words with a honeyed sharpness. “I spent a lot of my life angry and confused with Remus, and he was nothing but patient with me. I’ve learned from that.” She stood up and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As she retreated up to her dormitory, Harry tried to call after her - try and remind her that they hadn’t planned out their date, but when she merely chuckled and nothing else, he realised that was a tomorrow morning problem.

One that turned out to be easily solved on their walk down to Hogsmeade.

Keeping some distance away from Ron and Hermione, it transpired that Violet had had something up her sleeve the entire time. She pulled a flask from her satchel and passed it to Harry, who welcomed the warmth that it brought on their cold, snowy walk down to the village.

“What’s in here?” he asked her.

“Have a swig for yourself,” she said cryptically.

Wondering what on earth his girlfriend was up to, Harry opened up the flask and did as she said. He immediately recognised it as cinnamon hot chocolate, only with a kick of-

“Firewhiskey?!” he coughed, handing it back over to Viole for her to have a sip of.

“I thought why not go all out? Besides… I feel like Firewhiskey was a bonding moment for us.”

“Bit strong, don’t you think?”

“And? It’s a Saturday and we’re on a date!”

“It’s half past eleven in the morning.”

Violet shrugged, but she had a grin on her face all the same. She was happy, and most definitely pleased with herself in regards to her idea. Harry couldn’t deny her a bit of fun - besides, she was right about the fact that it was a Saturday. A strongly spiked hot chocolate was a fantastic idea, and he was definitely kept warm.

“You’re full of surprises,” Harry remarked lightly. “Where did the quiet girl go?”

“Still here,” Violet replied with an eye roll, linking her arm through Harry’s. “Just… comfy around you. Although I don’t think that even needs saying.”

“Pointing out the obvious there,” he agreed. “So what is the plan?”

“Well… we can do the usual Hogsmeade trip - you know, wandering around the shops - only drinking spiked hot chocolate, we meet my dad for a Butterbeer, and I thought… why not have time to ourselves in the room? For the rest of the day? I mean - we’ll come out for dinner and all that, but… we have time there. No homework. No other friends. Just us.”

“That sounds… good,” Harry said with a smile. “Simple. Quiet. Easy. I like it. Let’s make sure we don’t overdo it with the hot chocolate before we go to the Three Broomsticks.”

“Never knew you to be the sensible one.”

“I learned that from you.”

Well, that was something Violet couldn’t disagree with.

As much as there was a fear of the other students of Hogwarts finding it strange that they were going around the village as a pair without Ron and Hermione, it ultimately didn’t matter. Everyone was too busy enjoying the snow and the shops and the village. It allowed Harry and Violet to slip through the crowds easily and entirely unnoticed.

They looked like two friends having fun, except they both knew it was more than that. Subtly throwing each other sweet side glances, trying to hold each other’s hands as much as they could among the crowds, wandering down alleys to steal secret kisses where they knew nobody could see them. Passing the flask of hot chocolate between each other until it was empty and they were red-faced and merry.

“Being a normal teenager is fun,” Violet said, leaning against the stone wall down one of the alleys they had taken a quick detour down.

Harry scratched at the back of his head. “Oh yeah, definitely. Why don’t we do it more often?”

“Because… I’m busy trying to mind my own business and you’re busy saving the Wizarding World at least once a year?”

He laughed, because she had a point. “Don’t remind me… you know - one day, when I don’t have to save the world, maybe we can do something more than wandering around shops and stuff?”

Violet’s eyes narrowed in curiosity. “Like what?”

“Go somewhere nice. I’ve never been out the country before. Have you?”

She nodded. “Went to India once, when I was really small. I don’t remember it, but it was for a funeral. Dad’s grandparents passed away. So that was his mum’s side of the family. They retired out there or something...”

“I’m sorry. So… are your dad’s parents still alive?”

Violet shook her head. “Grandad passed when I was about five? Ba, I think I was about nine.”

“Ba?”

“Oh! Um, so because my dad’s mum was Indian, that’s - that’s how you say Grandmother. Or at least, ‘father’s mother’ as a more specific translation…” she explained to him. Harry tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, fascinated by what she was telling him. “I didn’t go to that funeral. He and mum thought I was a bit young for that. So… Remus looked after me that day.” Violet went quiet for a moment. “You know… if you wanted - well, I guess you do, since you’ve not been out the country before - we can always go to the house my great grandparents had in India? One day. When you don’t need to worry about saving the world.”

“I’d like that. Sounds like a good plan,” he said quietly, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “It’s nice hearing about the Muggle side of your family.”

“Yeah, they’re nicer to talk about… speaking of - it’s nearly two o’clock! We have to go!” Violet’s eyes widened and she grabbed Harry’s hand, immediately darting back out to the main street of the village. The pair of them ran up the road and into the Three Broomsticks in a flurry, their cheeks even more flushed than before.

At least they could use running up the street as their excuse, and not the fact they’d been sipping on alcoholic hot chocolate…

Violet glanced around the packed pub and spotted her father sitting at a booth in the far corner. She let go of Harry and then led him over to the table, where Thomas beamed on seeing the both of them. He immediately stood up and wrapped his daughter in a warm embrace.

“Violet, love, good to see you,” he said, pulling off her hat and ruffling her hair.

“You too, dad,” she said, a little annoyed, but snatching her hat back all the same.

“And Harry! I didn’t know you’d be joining us,” Thomas said warmly, taking the boy’s hand and shaking it whilst Violet slid onto the bench opposite her dad. “Violet didn’t say.”

She shrugged. “Last minute decision,” she said, taking off her hat, coat, and scarf. Harry then sat down next to her and did the same.

“Fair enough,” he grinned. “What about Ron and Hermione?”

Violet’s mind blanked for a second. “Oh! Well - both Harry and I had a bit of late night so we came here after them,” she lied quickly. “Transfiguration has been a bit tricky this year…”

“You’ll get the hang of it eventually,” said a new voice from behind them. Violet froze as she realised it was her mother, who had carried four pints of Butterbeer on a tray over to them, and set it down in front of them before settling down next to Thomas.

Underneath the table, Violet grabbed Harry’s hand and squeezed it tight as all she did was stare at the drinks. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Genevive, and furthermore: why was she even here? It was just supposed to be Thomas… just dad… nobody else… She shrank back in her seat., keeping her mouth shut tight.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Thomas said quietly, sighing. “I know you wouldn’t have come along if I’d said…”

“It’s fine…” she ended up muttering. Violet didn’t want there to be another argument. Not today of all days anyway. She finally looked up at her mother and gave her a brief, wry smile. She noticed how Genevive looked tired, perhaps a little more pale than normal, as if she still hadn’t quite fully recovered. Violet then swiftly picked up a Butterbeer. “Glad you’re better,” she added, before taking a very long gulp of her drink.

Harry followed suit, not letting go of her hand for one second.

“Thank you, Violet,” Genevive replied. “I expect school’s been busy?”

She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Yes. It’s why - it’s why I couldn’t come and visit.”  _ Another lie _ .

“Of course,” Genevive’s smile was forced at best. She knew Violet was lying, and Thomas could sense the tension in the air. Harry was doing his best not to look at anyone.

“Well,” Thomas chirped up. “As long as you’re working hard - you’re  _ both _ working hard - that’s all we could ask for, isn’t it, Gen?”

“Yes. Make sure you have some time to yourselves, though.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Violet said stiffly.

“Sorry - just to get to the point - what happened?” Harry asked abruptly, picking up on the fact that any words exchanged between Violet and Genevive weren’t going to be genuine at all.

“Lamia created a spell that has a lasting effect once performed,” Genevive began to explain. “Every half an hour to an hour, I was… in pain that was worse than the Cruciatus Curse. It would last for a few minutes and go away. Then it would come back. She’s a clever woman, though, so of course there was a counter curse. I owe Dexter my life for that. I owe you for making sure that got to me.”

Violet took some time to digest that information, sipping on her Butterbeer as she did so. “You’re welcome,” was all she said. “I take it you can’t give any more context?”

Genevive and Thomas looked at each other, pained.

“Not here. Over the holidays, we will.”

Violet bit her lip. “What if I don’t want to come home over the holidays? What if I’ve made plans?”

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t,” Violet said. “Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me. I’ve still not forgiven you for the summer.” She glanced at Harry. “Let’s go.”

“We’re not done-”

“Yes, mum, we are,” she said, exasperated. Harry had hurriedly stood up, putting his coat and scarf back on. Violet did the same. “I’ll see you at the end of the school year. And dad, please don’t try something like this again.”

Without even looking back, she stormed out of the Three Broomsticks with Harry at her heels. The moment they were out in the cold, she’d clasped onto his hand again. In perhaps one of her more foul moods, she didn’t say a word to him and merely led him back to Hogwarts. He let her. He knew she’d talk when she was ready, and a little calmer.

The angry energy pulsating from Violet didn’t fade, not even when she’d pulled him all the way up the Room of Requirement. If anything, it changed into something else, and she was furiously kissing him like she had done once previously on one of their jaunts in there. He was happy enough to lean into it at first, until sense struck him and he pulled away.

“Do you want to talk about this?” he asked, breathless as he removed his outer layers of winter clothing. Violet shook her head as she mirrored him.

“No,” she said, just as breathless. “I don’t know how I feel. I didn’t want to see her. I thought… I thought for once…”

“I know, I know…”

“I’m furious with them - with  _ dad. _ ” Violet stepped closer to Harry again, tentative as she pressed a kiss to his lips. “I don’t like feeling like this.”

“No… nobody does. I get that,” he muttered, his arms snaking around her waist and pulling her as close as possible. “What do you want to do? Still want to stay here?”

“Yes. I do. And - and I want-” she cut herself off, cheeks pink and suddenly too shy to say. There was the quiet girl again.

Instead, Violet kissed him again, and moved his hand up her skirt Harry’s eyes widened when he clocked onto what she wanted, and suddenly he realised that she was channeling her anger into something else.

He was more than happy to go along with it, as fumblingly awkward his hands were in the process; then again, it was a learning curve for the both of them in the end. Not once did thoughts of annoying parents and terrible curses cross their minds as they carried on with the careful pursuit of more physicality in their relationship.


	68. Christmas, 1995: The Attack

Harry and Violet weren’t entirely what they were meant to be doing for Christmas, considering Ron was heading back to the Burrow with his family, and Hermione was going skiing with her parents. Neither of them had been able to contact Sirius about the idea of even seeing him over the holidays, so resigned themselves to the fact they’d be the only fifth years left at Hogwarts for two weeks.

It didn’t seem like such a bad idea, but considering they’d spent the past several Christmasses either with friends or family, it would be odd for it to be just the two of them. That was until Ron said they were welcome at the Burrow too, and suddenly things didn’t seem so strange after all.

The final D.A session of the year came and went quickly, and everyone was in high spirits about the holidays and term being over too. Until later that night when things took a turn for the worse.

There was an incessant banging on the door of the girls’ dormitory that woke them all up.

Violet managed to slip on her dressing gown and go investigate, telling the other girls to go back to sleep. She opened the door a crack to find a very frantic Seamus.

She rubbed her eyes, yawning. “What - what do you want? It’s the middle of the-“

“Ron said to get you - it - it’s Harry,” he said, nervous. “He’s not - Neville’s gone to get help, but-“

“W-what? Violet was suddenly more alert, and she stepped out into the walkway, her heart now hammering away too fast in her chest. “What’s happened?”

Seamus didn’t say anything but gestured to his dorm, and practically went running back there with Violet hot on his heels. She didn’t have enough time to ask herself too many questions because she quickly saw for herself what was going on.

Harry, drenched in a sweat, clutching at his forehead, crying in pain and going incredibly pale. Before she could get any closer to his bed, he promptly vomited over the side of it. Wincing, Violet immediately jumped to action.

“Dean - Scouring Charm,” she commanded, pointing at the puddle of sick on the floor. Violet hurried to the side of the bed that was clear and sat on the edge of it, trying her best to calm Harry down.

“He’s been bitten - he’s bleeding-“ the sheer terror in his voice broke something in her, and she looked to Ron, who was just as worried and frightened as she was.

“Harry - Harry -“ she coaxed his hands away from his face, holding onto them tightly instead. He was borderline hyperventilating. “Who?”

“Mr Weasley,” he said shakily, before turning away from her and expelling the contents of his stomach once more. He breathed heavily, letting go of her hands to lie on his side. She lay one hand on his upper arm, and rubbed his back with the other in a vain attempt to soothe him. He was trembling uncontrollably.

“What - what bit him?” she asked calmly.

“Vi, it was a dream-“ Ron tried to say.

“It wasn’t!” Harry snapped. “It wasn’t a dream! A snake - I was the snake - it - it got him, it got-“

“It wasn’t you,” Violet said, not sure how she was remaining so level headed in comparison to everyone else. Perhaps it was down to the fact he was able to do the same for her if she was ever in a state - only, she’d never been this bad. This was something else entirely and it hurt to see Harry like that. “Harry it-“

“It was me!”

“You’re not a snake, Harry. Come on...” Her voice was beginning to wobble. “We should go see McGonagall, maybe go to the Hospital Wing…”

His ears pricked up at that, and he managed to sit up in bed using Violet as a support. “Yeah…” he was breathless, tired, and looked on the verge of throwing up again. “Let’s - Let’s go find McGonagall.”

How Violet and Ron managed to get Harry on his own two feet and walking down the stairs into the Common Room - they had no idea. He was violently shaking, and both of them were impassively worried about him. They barely made it to the portrait hole when Neville came back in followed by a startled Professor McGonagall.

“What on earth happened, Mr Potter?”

“It’s - it’s Mr Weasley. He’s been attacked!” Harry managed to speak more clearly than he had done in the past ten minutes. “It was a snake, and I think he was at the Ministry of Magic… please, you have to believe me.”

McGonagall had turned solemn. “I do. I do believe you, Potter.” She looked between Violet and Ron. “Miss Merryworth, I shall take it from here with Mr Weasley.”

“Wait-” Harry wanted to object, but McGonagall shook her head.

“This matter shouldn’t necessarily concern Miss Merryworth, but I will return with news for her. Worry about yourself, dear boy! Now excuse me a few moments, while I go wake the others…”

They assumed that to mean Ron’s siblings, and a few minutes later, Fred, George, and Ginny were sleepily making their way into the Common Room. That was when McGonagall gestured for them to leave with her.

Violet felt the colour draining from her face as she let go of Harry and passed him off to McGonagall, shaky as she watched the six of them going through the portrait hole and out of sight.

Why couldn’t she have gone with them? Was Harry going to come back? Why didn’t McGonagall want her to come with them? Violet’s mind was racing, and she swayed; thankfully, Neville caught her by the elbows and steered her into an armchair before promptly disappearing.

Violet stared down at her trembling hands in her lap with wide eyes. She clenched her teeth together, hard, and couldn’t stop her leg from jittering. She didn’t care that she was down here on her own, she cared more about the fact she had no idea what was happening to her  _ boyfriend _ of all people. At least he was with Ron. Ron was his best friend. It would be okay. Mr Weasley would be okay.

Someone shoved a glass into her hands.

Blinking, Violet looked up to see Dean, Seamus, and Neville standing over her.

“You alright, Violet?” Dean asked, perching on the armchair and gently placing a hand on her shoulder. She tensed, and he immediately removed it.

“Just worried,” she squeaked, looking into the glass that she’d been handed. The liquid inside it was amber and gold, and it twinkled in the firelight. “Is this Firewhiskey?”

“Figured you could use some,” Seamus said with a shrug, holding up the bottle.

Violet necked it back and held out the glass to be refilled, with Seamus happily obliging. She sipped on the second glass more slowly, not particularly enjoying the taste but appreciating the warm feeling in her stomach and the lightheadedness creeping in.

She must have been on her fourth glass when the portrait hole opened once more to McGonagall again. Violet got to her feet immediately and thrust glass back to Seamus.

“Miss Merryworth, with me. I’ll explain on the way.”

Nodding feverently, Violet mumbled a quick thanks to her friends before heading after McGonagall back out of the portrait hole.

Once they were completely alone, McGonagall started talking.

“Your mother is one of those helping to retrieve Mr Weasley from the Ministry, and your father is now on standby at St Mungo’s to help treat him. It seemed most appropriate to contact them alongside Mrs Weasley… I’m sure you’re aware of why.”

Violet hummed in agreement, realising there was no need to talk out loud. The ears at Hogwarts had walls nowadays, and there was no way either of them were about to expose the Order there.

Soon enough, Violet realised she was being led to Dumbledore’s office. Only, when they entered the room, it was empty save for the headmaster himself. McGonagall left them be.

“Professor?” Violet was confused.

“You will be spending your Christmas at number twelve Grimmauld Place, something I’m sure Mr Potter and Mr Weasley will be delighted by, as they are already there,” Dumbledore told her without so much as a hello. “I’m sure Professor McGonagall has informed you of your parents being called to Mr Weasley’s aid?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I’m afraid we’re going to have to go through yet another transgression… I’m sure one more illegal Portkey won’t be too much trouble…” Dumbledore said lightly, picking up an empty candlestick holder he had on his desk and bringing it down to Violet. He placed it on the table in front of her, pointed his wand at it, and muttered, “ _ Portus. _ ”

“Sir, I-”

“Three, two-”

Violet grabbed hold of the object just in time.

“-One.”

Sucked down into that terrible vortex well that was worse than side along Apparition, Violet had to stop herself from crying out as she was freefalling for what seemed like forever, until-

_ Smack. _

She landed on the hard floor of the kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place.

Groggy and dizzy, Violet was helped up off the floor by none other than Sirius Black himself. She thanked him quietly and dusted herself off, trying to regain her footing and balance.

Once she was reorientated, she glanced around the kitchen to see Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George anxiously sitting at the table. For a moment she wondered where Harry was only to find that he had bounded over to herand was crushing her in a tight hug.

Apparently he didn’t care that he was squeezing the air out of her lungs, nor that Sirius had narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the part of them. Even when parting from their hug, he didn’t let go of her. He practically dragged her over to the seat next to his whilst Sirius went and got an extra Butterbeer for the girl.

“My mum’s escorting your dad to St Mungo’s,” Violet said after taking a swig of her beverage. “And my dad’s treating him for the snake wounds. McGonagall told me.”

The Weasleys all seemed to breathe a tiny sigh of relief at that news. “Dumbledore works fast,” Fred remarked.

“Well, my parents are part of the Order. He probably wants to keep it as contained as possible.”

“Violet, why were you awake in the first place?” Sirius asked.

“Ron got me to come and help Harry,” she replied simply. “When McGonagall came and got them, I thought I wasn’t going to hear anything until tomorrow afternoon. I was told this didn’t concern me - at first. How - how are you all feeling? Stupid question, but-”

“We know it’s coming from the right place, Vi, don’t worry,” George reassured her. “We wanna see dad, but-”

“It would be weird if we showed up to St Mungo’s before mum,” Ron finished off. “At least if it’s your dad helping ours… we’ll know something soon, right?”

“Hopefully…” Violet muttered, trying to conceal the uncertainty in her voice.

The group fell into a somber silencer after that, which was momentarily broken by Harry dragging his chair as close as it would go to Violet’s and resting his head on her shoulder. She let go of his hand to wrap an arm around his shoulders instead, catching Sirius’ eye as she did so. Normally she would have felt embarrassed, but now wasn’t the time.

She couldn’t quite get a read on Sirius. She held his gaze long enough to make it clear that whatever the hell he was thinking right now was completely true.

Eventually they received a message that Mrs Weasley was on her way to St Mungo’s and that Mr Weasley was ‘still alive,’ as it was put. That unsettled the group enough, but at least it was  _ something _ .

As the night wore on, the twins started to doze off, Ron merely stared at the table looking incredibly pale, and Ginny scooted closer to Violet. The older girl took the younger girl’s hand in her own, and even though all she could think of was how distressed Harry had been earlier on (and still clearly was, with the way he had a tight grip on her dressing gown fabric), she felt like she and Sirius were the only two trying to keep everyone else together.

He shot Violet a sympathetic look on seeing she’d become the source of comfort for two people. She gave a tiny shrug in response. It wasn’t about her: her friends needed  _ her _ to be strong right now, and that meant pushing her own worries about her boyfriend to the back of her mind.

When Mrs Weasley walked into number twelve at five o’clock that morning, the relief was paramount. Mr Weasley was doing okay, and Thomas had helped heal him up well enough for the time being. Violet immediately went to help Sirius cook breakfast for the eight of them, as she realised that the rest of them needed to share in their relief without her.

She was only there for moral support, but she was surprised when Mrs Weasley came over to plant a kiss on her cheek and was glad to hear that she’d be following Thomas’ footsteps to become a Healer.

“And thank you for keeping them all company,” she also added to Violet. “For listening to Harry too. You really are a sweet girl.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Mrs Weasley,” Violet said tiredly as she flipped some bacon over in the pan. “Go sit down. I’m fine helping Sirius finish up here.”

While she got back to the food on the stove, Violet glanced around to see that Harry and Sirius had disappeared. No matter - she carried on cooking, and just as she was about to plate up, they reappeared from the pantry.

Sirius gestured at Harry to take everything to the table while he pulled Violet aside at the stove.

“Keep an eye on him for me, won’t you?” he murmured, clapping her on the shoulder. 

“I - um - yes,” she said, a little taken aback. He headed over to the table without another word.

Violet had to keep a frown off her face as she followed after him, settling back down in her seat between Harry and Ginny. They all ate breakfast relatively quickly and were sent back to bed.

Automatically, Violet gravitated towards the room she’d been in in the summer, with Harry opting to follow her. She didn’t question it until they were in the bedroom.

“I don’t know if I should sleep,” he said after closing the door behind him. “What if - what if it happens again? What if I attack-”

“You won’t,” Violet told him softly, going to place her hands on his shoulders in an effort to keep him calm, to comfort him. “You are not the snake that attacked Mr Weasley. Whatever happened for you to see that, it’s a good thing you saw it.”

“Vi - I - when I was in Dumbledore’s office - I  _ wanted _ to hurt him. Something… I don’t know what it was - I just… I felt like the snake again,” he said, growing frantic and pulling at his hair in frustration. Violet grabbed his hands instead and held them, letting him squeeze them hard. “What’s happening to me? Why could I see that stuff?” Harry was looking at the floor now, trying to hide his eyes from her - trying to hide whatever he was feeling.

Violet wished she knew. She wished she was able to give him an answer - clarity - like she usually could, but she had no clue. “I - don’t know. I wish I had seen something-”

He tore his hands out of hers and paced in front of her. “Then what is the  _ point  _ of you doing all that stupid reading if you don’t know!” Harry shouted at her angrily. “How can you know how to do non-verbal spells but not - but not have  _ ever _ come across something like this!”

Violet flinched, taking a few steps back in shock. She blinked back tears as Harry finally made eye contact with her, stopping in his pacing. She’d never seen him so irate with  _ her _ , all complete with heavy breathing and flared nostrils to boot.

“You don’t mean that,” was all she said, quietly. “That’s not fair.”

It took a good ten seconds before his shoulders sagged and he started to simmer down. “Violet, I’m - I’m sorry. No, you’re right I - I didn’t mean that. I just want answers.”

She nodded, her tears too strong and finally spilling down her face. “And I wish I could give them to you. I don’t know everything. Nobody can.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, cautiously coming over to her.

“It’s fine-”

“No it’s not,” he sighed. “Thank you for looking after me tonight.”

“Any time,” she said softly.

An awkward moment passed where neither of them really knew what to do, and in the end Harry settled for pressing a kiss to her cheek.

He went over to the bed and merely sat atop the covers on one side of it, pulling the covers aside for Violet so she could crawl in; which she did so, gratefully. Harry covered her up and started to run his fingers through her hair to wherever he could reach with it from where he was sitting. Her eyelids fluttered closed at his touch.

“Are you not going to sleep?” she murmured.

“Maybe. I dunno if I can. You sleep, though…”

“Harry-”

“Violet,” his tone was firm in comparison to his hands.

Within minutes Violet had dozed off, sinking into horrible dreams of walking into the boys’ dormitory to see Harry thrashing about, the smell of sick, a snake slithering across his four poster bed-

She was shaken awake, and looked up to see Harry being the worried one for once that day. He clearly hadn’t slept at all: he was more tired than he had been at five o’clock in the morning. More to the point: Violet realised she was crying.

“You alright?” he asked her as she sat up.

“Fine,” she replied stiffly.

Harry didn’t buy it in the slightest.

“I - I just dreamt about last night, that’s all,” she said, rubbing her eyes and yawning. She didn’t quite want to tell him that there was a lovely addition of a snake to her dream. “What’s the time?”

“About ten o’clock. Ron came to knock. All our stuff from Hogwarts is here and we’re gonna go visit Mr Weasley at St Mungo’s this afternoon,” Harry paused uneasily, and Violet’s eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“Your mum’s here.”

“Oh.”

“I think she’s gonna be taking us to St Mungo’s this afternoon…” Harry continued.

“ _ Oh. _ Well. I didn’t think it would be too appropriate if I went anyway-”

“You have to come!”

“The only reason I’m here is because my dad’s the one looking after him,” she reminded him. “I think for today it should just be his family. So I’ll stay behind. I can keep Sirius company. I like him.”

“Please?”

“No,” Violet said stubbornly. “I’m not going anywhere near her.”

Nodding in response, Harry finally gave up in trying to convince her otherwise.

“Stay up here, then, until we’ve gone at least.”

“Yeah… I was planning on that,” she murmured quietly, watching as Harry got out of bed to get and retrieve his trunk. “Promise me something?”

“What?”

“Tell me how he is. And get some sleep when you get back.”

The ghost of a smile drifted across Harry’s face for a few moments. “First one was a given. Second one… fine. I promise.” He paused for a moment. “You’ll probably want to get your trunk too.”

Violet sighed, because he was right. So she went downstairs with him to get her things and once retreated back upstairs - she stayed there, until she was certain they were all gone. During that time, Harry tried to convince her to at least go and get some food but she wasn’t having it. She merely got dressed and avoided everyone for as long as she could.

It was only when everyone left along with her mother that she went down to get a spot of lunch. She was wary as ever, but thankfully it really was just her and Sirius left in the house.

“There’s some sandwiches left,” he said, barely glancing up from the  _ Daily Prophet _ when Violet entered the kitchen.

“Thanks,” she replied, heading over to the counter top and picking one up. When she turned back towards Sirius, he was eyeing her curiously over the top of the paper. “What?”

“Are you dating my godson?”

The question felt like a strange slap in the face, and Violet had to hide the shock on her face. “Does it matter if I am?”

To her delight, Sirius merely smiled. “No. About time too.”

“Right…” Violet wasn’t sure how to react to how casual he was being, but then again… it was Sirius. This wasn’t something he’d get overprotective about. “I’m… gonna go and read…”

“Have fun…”

Violet disappeared up to the drawing room as quickly as she could.

* * *

“Hey - bookworm.”

Violet was being shaken awake by Sirius. She’d dozed off while reading, and when she rubbed her eyes her hands came away wet. Frowning, Violet looked up to see a concerned Sirius as he handed her book back to her. It had fallen on the ground when she dozed off.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Violet replied quietly, swinging her legs over the side of the recliner and sitting up properly. She stretched with a big yawn, the joints in her shoulders popping satisfyingly.

“Hmm. Most girls your age don’t wake up crying.”

She sighed and punched the bridge of her nose. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having with anyone, let alone Sirius. She didn’t want to tell him that she was in the beginnings of having a recurring nightmare that was apparently getting progressively worse with each instance. She was on two for two on snakes in Harry’s dorm, but this time it curled up lovingly around him.

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted.

“It’s fine if you’re not,” he reminded her gently, sitting next to her. “I expect you and Ron felt powerless to help Harry last night.”

“Yeah. He’s… he’s struggling. He got a bit mad at me earlier but it’s fine - really.”

“I see.” There was an awkward pause. “Sorry for springing that question on you earlier.”

“You’re less oblivious than my parents, I’ll give you that much,” Violet muttered, letting out a light laugh. “It’s best if you don’t mention anything.”

“Why the secrecy?”

“Surely  _ you _ of all people would understand that since you and my uncle dated on the sly in your sixth year?” Violet got up and started to pace up and down the room. “Harry is The Boy Who Lived and I’m just the quiet girl in the corner. The school has very differing perceptions of us.”

Sirius lounged back in the recliner, crossing one leg over the other. “Oh yeah, Mad Merryworth?”

Violet’s nostrils flared. “How did you know about that?”

“My godson tells me as much as he can,” he chuckled. “Not the quiet girl in the corner anymore, are you?”

“I try to be.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s  _ safe _ , and it means people won’t talk about me!” she snapped, throwing her book onto the floor. “And Harry understands that,” she said after a brief moment of allowing herself to simmer down. “We only told our friends what was happening between us when it became difficult to conceal it - and that was because we were so comfortable around each other it was hard to… hard to pretend to not be a couple around our friends.”

Her chest was heaving as she breathed, and she came to a stop in her pacing as she faced Sirius. She wondered if it was pity or understanding on his features as they stared each other down across the room, and she had a moment of self-awareness where she realised: she should not have spoken to a grown up like that.

“Violet…” Sirius said, going to pick her book up off the floor once more and hand it to her. “I don’t know what your parents have said to you over the years - I don’t know what Remus might have said to you over the years - but you don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be. And if you want to pretend that the Oaks side of your family doesn’t exist just for a little bit, you can do just that.”

“Why do I feel like you have experience with this?”

“Because he does,” came Lupin’s voice from the doorway. The pair of them in the drawing room jumped as he walked in. “Sorry - just arrived. Tonks said you were up here. They’re back.”

“Mum and dad always tried to encourage me to be more than introverted. The fact I wanted to prove that so badly was why I ended up in Gryffindor,” Violet murmured, glancing between Lupin and Sirius. “But I don’t - I don’t like the fact that the one time I was brave and stood up ato Dexter I got a crude nickname because I wasn’t acting the quiet girl in the corner.”

Before either of them could say anything else, Violet noticed Harry rush past the drawing room and continue up the stairs. Frowning, she excused herself and hurried after him.

He’d legged it back to the bedroom and slammed the door loudly enough to make Violet wince as she chased after him. When she finally reached the bedroom, she found him gripping the desk so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

“Harry…” she said carefully. “What - what happened? What’s wrong?”

“They - they think - Moody… your mum…  _ Dumbledore… _ they think Voldemort might be possessing me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the absence. Been weirdly busy and writing other things. Hope you still enjoyed this. :)


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